


Die of Loneliness

by Kimberius



Category: ST:TOS, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: 5th year of original 5-year mission, Accidental Bonding, Anal Sex, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Bottom Kirk, Dagger of the Mind episode, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Frottage, Gol fix-it, Happy Ending, Hurt Kirk, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Mental Injury, Mental Instability, Mind Meld Sex, Mood Swings, Operation: Annihilate episode, Protective Spock, Slow Burn, Space Husbands, Suicidal Ideation, Top Spock, Virgin Spock, Vulcan Mind Melding, Vulcan telepathic healing, beach luau, bondmates, guilt and anxiety, log cabin fireside coziness, neural neutralizer device, nightmares (Kirk), spirk, t’hy’la, visit to Deneva
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:08:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 72,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27423973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimberius/pseuds/Kimberius
Summary: “It's hard to believe that a man could die of loneliness." - Bones“Not when you've sat in that room."- JimKirk suffers bipolar-like symptoms in the final months of their 5-year mission, after he is unwittingly re-exposed to Dr. Adams’ neural neutralizer. Gregarious and charming as always in public, he endures a private world of anxiety and deepening despair when he’s alone. Spock notices. Things come to a head on Deneva, where the crew is being honored as heroes by a grateful population.
Relationships: Kirk/Spock
Comments: 14
Kudos: 92





	1. Chapter 1

Spock at his side always soothed Kirk’s mind and bolstered his confidence more than anything else. His loyal first officer was beside him now, standing to the right of the captain’s chair in his familiar spot. He was gracing Jim with that almost-smile he saved for moments of victory. 

“Your signature, Captain,” Spock requested.

“Why certainly, Mr. Spock,” the captain said ceremoniously as he took the tablet and signed his James T. Kirk with a dramatic flourish.

Spock raised an eyebrow fondly, then handed the tablet to Uhura with instructions to transmit the signed trade agreement down to the Council on Lyra 10.

Dr. McCoy, on Kirk’s other side, slapped him on the back and said, “Well, you pulled off another one, Jim! Congratulations. I don’t know how you do it.” 

“I remember when I didn’t _have_ to do it,” Jim said. “Remember all of the experts Starfleet used to send us for missions like this? Diplomats, ambassadors, negotiators.... All I had to do was deliver them and ensure their safety. Remember those days? What happened to that?”

“You ran circles around them. Made ‘em all look like incompetent fools,” Bones reminded. “Starfleet decided if one Jack-of-all-trades starship captain could do the work of ten men, they’d _let_ him!”

Jim chuckled. “So, I dug my own grave, huh?”

“Yep. I mean, look at Spock… you think they’re gonna pay for a science officer AND a first officer when _one_ Vulcan show-off will do both jobs? I’m telling ya, Jim, you never wanna let ‘em know everything you’re capable of,” the doctor warned, “or you’ll be doing it forever… wear yourself down to a nub.”

Jim chuckled. “Well, I don’t think either of us are quite nubs yet,” he said, glancing back toward Spock, “but I _am_ tired and glad this is over. It’s been a long week.” He stretched a languorous stretch and settled deeper into the captain’s chair.

“Trade negotiations not as exciting as battling malevolent entities?” Bones quipped.

Jim just grinned.

“Well, there’s a heck of a lot fewer injuries,” the doctor commented. “I’ll say _that_. It’s been months since I’ve had to patch up either of you two.”

Jim touched Spock’s arm lightly and smiled. It _had_ been awhile since he’d had to worry about Spock’s safety. He was grateful for that. “Thanks for all of your help down there, Spock. You were invaluable, as always.”

“I am gratified that an equitable agreement was reached with the Lyrans,” Spock said. Jim watched him as he returned to his science station. 

“Well, guess I’ll wander back to Sickbay, Jim,” McCoy decided. “Maybe someone has an ingrown toenail or a varicose vein.”

Jim smiled in amusement. “Okay, Bones.” 

“See you planetside for the party tonight, everybody?” McCoy called over his shoulder as he boarded the turbolift.

“Yes!” “You bet.” “See you there!” The junior officers chorused. 

Jim relaxed in his chair, content to do nothing other than watch the main viewscreen as Lyra 10 spun lazily beneath them. The Enterprise had been orbiting the lovely pinkish-blue world for a week. Tomorrow morning, they’d be leaving for Deneva. Jim would see his nephew, Peter, for the first time in three years. He was looking forward to that.

“Are you going to the farewell festivities tonight, Captain?” Sulu asked. “It’s supposed to be quite a party.”

“I heard they’re pit-roasting a tirinti,” Lt. Uhura added. “That’s the Lyra 10 equivalent of a wild boar.”

Spock’s subtle expression of distaste was hidden as he hovered over his science station viewer.

“There vill be fire-dancing, too, Keptin!” Chekov said with obvious excitement. “It sounds wery much like a luau!”

“It does!” Sulu agreed. “It’s right on the beach, too, I heard.”

Uhura smiled and stepped away from her communications console to be closer to the conversation. “I bought a dress at Space Station K-15 that’s similar to a sarong. I’m going to wear it tonight. It will be perfect. I hope there’s music and dancing… other than the fire-dancing, I mean. I don’t want to try _that._ ”

Jim chuckled.

“It vill be nice to have a casual night out of uniform, von’t it?” Chekov said.

“Mmm, yeah,” Sulu sighed. “Tropical breezes and balmy nights... I love the southern archipelago of Lyra 10. I’m really looking forward to tonight.”

Kirk was pleased that his officers were going to be enjoying a pleasurable evening, but what sounded better to _him,_ personally, was a quiet night in.

“So are you coming, Captain?” Uhura asked.

Kirk considered. “I’ll make an appearance at the ceremony that kicks off the festivities, but after that I think I’ll let Mr. Spock represent me. I know how he loves a good party.” Jim gave Spock a wicked smile as the Vulcan turned from his viewer to face him. “Do you have any Hawaiian shirts, Mr. Spock?” he teased with good humor.

“I do not,” Spock intoned, “but I shall be content to represent the Enterprise at this gathering if you wish to rest, Captain.”

“I really do. Thank you, Spock,” Jim said. “Bring me back some roast tirinti. I want to try that.”

“Certainly, Sir.”

“…and get a picture of Lt. Uhura in that sarong to fuel my dreams,” Kirk added, clutching both hands over his heart dramatically, shooting her a smitten look.

It had the desired effect. She laughed fondly and shooed away his nonsense with a wave of her slender hand.

“You know,” Chekov said, “people think of the Havaiian Islands vhen they think of luaus, but the luau was actually inwented by 17th century Russian sailors who became marooned on…”

After nearly five years of Chekov’s tall tales about glorious Russia, the bridge crew didn't even bother to hide their sighs and eye rolls anymore.

***

The Lyran air was sweet with blossoms and the sun had just set over a calm ocean as the ceremony concluded. Balmy breezes lifted the captain’s hair and rippled through his casual pale blue shirt. The pleasant sound of drums set a relaxing rhythm as the fire pit was lighted and guests began to mingle on the shore. Kirk stood off to the side, giving Spock some last-minute directions before he retired to the ship. He surveyed the scene with a smile, pleased to see his crew enjoying themselves among the locals. 

Even Scotty, who was usually happiest reading his technical journals, was here with his junior staff, eager to sample the local drinks and soak up the atmosphere. He walked over to where Kirk and Spock were standing on the shore, at the edge of the venue. He had a dainty flute of red liquid in his hand that didn’t suit him, but he was smiling like he couldn’t be happier.

”Sure you canna stay a wee bit, Captain? It’s such a bonnie spot an’ these drinks are fantastic!” Scotty emptied his tiny glass with a satisfied, “ahh.”

Jim smiled. “Have a good time for me, Scotty. I’ve got some things to attend to.”

“Aye,” Mr. Scott nodded. “A captain’s work is never done.”

“Mr. Spock will stay… just to make sure no fights break out,” Kirk jabbed for fun.

“Sir!” Scotty acted affronted. He knew his captain was ribbing him about the time he’d thrown the first punch on Space Station K-7, after a group of Klingons baited him and his men with insults.

Jim smirked and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Enjoy yourself, Scotty. I doubt anyone here will insult the Enterprise.”

Mr. Scott gave a sheepish grin. He was still embarrassed that he’d only punched the Klingon after he called the Enterprise a garbage scow and not when he’d called the captain a tin-plated, overbearing, swaggering dictator with delusions of godhood. Kirk was apparently never going to forget that.

“Well, I’ll see ya tomorrow then, Sir,” the engineer said. 

“Goodnight, Scotty,” Kirk said.

The Scotsman headed eagerly back to the party to get his glass refilled, leaving Jim and Spock alone on the beach. Although the captain craved rest and solitude tonight, he had to admit it was lovely being with Spock in this setting. Spock had chosen a lightweight dark burgundy shirt with a v-neck and loose sleeves that billowed in the steady onshore breeze. Kirk had never seen it before and found it most becoming on his first officer. He was about to say so when a group of young Lyran women spotted him and headed his way. 

“There he is. That’s Captain Kirk!” one girl said while she pointed and waved. Luckily, the group was distracted briefly by some friends wanting to greet them.

Jim seized the moment. “I better get outta here now, Spock, or I never will.”

“Very well, Captain. I will see you in the morning,” Spock said as Jim whipped out his communicator and called for a quick beam-up.

“Give them my apologies,” he said before turning to a shower of gold and disappearing.

Spock stood with his hands clasped behind his back as the girls approached. He didn’t like having his sensitive hands touched and found that this posture worked well for preventing it.

“Mr. Spock, I’m Councilman Lerrint’s daughter. Do you remember me?” the teenager asked.

“Indeed. Good evening, Miss Lerrint,” Spock said, inclining his head respectfully.

“Where did Captain Kirk go? I wanted my friends to meet him,” the girl asked with a frown, her eyes searching up and down the beach.

“He was compelled to return to the Enterprise,” Spock explained, leaving them to assume that it was _duty_ which compelled him. 

Over the years, Spock had grown adept at making tactful excuses for his captain when he preferred to retire to the solitude of his quarters. Jim was a gregarious person, but only to a point, and when he reached it, he reached it. Spock understood.

“Well, tell us about Vulcan then, Mr. Spock,” Miss Lerrint suggested. “I heard it’s all dry and dusty there.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “That is somewhat of a generalization. While it is true that my home planet has fewer inches of rainfall per year than any other populated Federation world, there are mountainous regions which....” 

He would educate. He would circulate. He would endure the unappealing aroma of meat being cooked, and represent Starfleet to the best of his ability on this final night on Lyra 10… for Jim.

***

“Ahh,” the captain sighed, as he entered the silent sanctuary of his cabin. It was a welcome refuge. This mission had been a success, but a party wasn’t how he felt like celebrating. This peace, this freedom to finally switch off his professional persona felt like a gift. _Thank you, Spock,_ he thought fondly as he slipped into his softest robe. 

He pulled some extra pillows from the cupboard and arranged them against the headboard of his narrow bunk. Sitting in bed and reading an old-style book sounded perfect to him right now. Then, he would go to the computer at his desk for awhile to catch up on news and his personal correspondence. The chronometer read 20:06 and he told himself he’d turn in no later than 22:00, since he really needed some sleep. The ship was heading for Deneva in the morning, a 17-hour journey that would hopefully be uneventful.

He settled in comfortably with _The Chronicles of Commander Spirek,_ an historical nonfiction book. It was a survival story from five centuries ago about a doomed expedition of Vulcans who crash landed on Andor. Facing the bitter cold of the ice planet, attacks from Andorian beasts, and starvation, the Vulcan crew fought hard and eventually succumbed to their fate with dignity. Written by the commander of the tragic mission in the form of his many log entries, it was a book taught at the academy. 

Spock had taken it upon himself to do a re-translation, as a personal project, during lulls last year. He didn’t feel that the Vulcan-to-Andorian-to-Standard translation accurately captured the original meaning as well as it should. Spock was granted access to Commander Spirek’s actual logs from the Vulcan Historical Society and began his own painstaking translation directly to Standard based on his excellent knowledge of that historical period and the subtly different meanings of Vulcan phrases and expressions during that era. 

_The Chronicles of Commander Spirek_ had never been “dry” reading per se, but Spock’s translation brought it to life and showed the Vulcan explorer’s vibrant mind and yes, emotions, in a truly gripping way. His fear and determination were palpable now. Spock’s efforts had made this story as rich and poignant as it was in the original Vulcan language. He had done a remarkable job. 

After his translation was published, Spock ordered Jim a paper copy and gave him the book as a birthday present last month. Uhura planned a big party, even though he’d asked her to keep it simple. Spock helped him duck out early and they’d spent the remainder of his birthday playing chess in Spock’s quarters. Then he gave him the book and went over some of the parts that had given him the most challenges. They’d had a terrific evening which Jim remembered as the best part of his birthday. 

He’d read the book several times since then, and found new things to enjoy each time. Tonight, he lost himself in the story for about an hour, until he read the line, _Oh, Solek, my late brother’s son, who will guide you when I do not return?_ and Kirk’s thoughts turned to his nephew.

The boy had been orphaned on Deneva three years ago and this upcoming visit would be the Enterprise’s first time back to that planet since then. Kirk was lauded as “The Hero of Deneva” by the grateful population he’d liberated. He knew this from news stories and Peter’s letters. He was to be officially honored in some fashion when the Enterprise arrived, but he hadn’t received the details yet.

Jim put the book down and moved to his desk. In a few moments he had Peter’s most recent letter up on the screen:

_Uncle Jim,_

_I am so happy to hear that I’ll get to see you in person soon! Warning: Everyone is going to want a piece of you. I’ve never seen the city this excited… the whole colony really! Since Governor Coffman announced your visit on the news, it’s been all people can talk about._

_Hopefully, you can come to my house and visit for a little while before the official stuff, or maybe after. You’re welcome to stay with us overnight if you want. We have a nice guest room that my mom wants me to offer you._

_The houses here are built in groups of 12. Mine backs up to a park shared by 11 other families. Those neighbors are our friends and my mom and dad are planning a little picnic for you and your officers here. It’s really pretty. There’s a lake. We’ll have fun and it will be semi-private unless someone blabs. See you soon!_

_Your nephew,_

_Peter_

So, Peter was calling his guardians “mom and dad” now. Jim rubbed his chin and tried to decide how he felt about that. He knew he should be glad that Peter felt secure and loved enough to think of them that way, but he realized he was scowling. Somehow, it felt disrespectful to Sam. He wondered if the Nelsons were encouraging him to forget his parents. Perhaps their deaths had traumatized the boy to the point where forgetting them was the only way he could cope.

He certainly seemed excited to see Jim, but he suspected it may be more for his celebrity status than his family status. “The Hero of Deneva” indeed. He scoffed and shook his head. He was not looking forward to the fanfare the colony’s leadership was apparently planning. A nice picnic in the sun, getting to know Peter better _did_ sound good, though. He was glad his officers were invited. He wanted Peter to meet them and vice versa. He pictured Spock meeting him. He would no doubt call him “Mr. Kirk.” Nothing like Vulcan formality to remind the kid who he was, if he’d forgotten.

Jim wrote a quick reply returning Peter’s sentiments and accepting his offer to stay overnight, then looked at his computer’s list of suggested news stories. Spock had set it up to alert him of anything pertaining to their old missions. He would just peruse some headlines, then hit the rack. 

LIBRARY ASTEROID MEMORY ALPHA INSTALLS DEFENSIVE CAPABILITIES

_Long overdue,_ Jim thought. _Too bad they had to learn the hard way._

EMINIAR VII AND NEIGHBORING VENDIKAR STILL KEEPING THE PEACE.

_I called it! …or I got lucky_. Jim smiled to himself.

FOUR CLASS L PLANETS SELECTED FOR KELVIN COLONIZATION FROM ANDROMEDA

_Good work, Federation science teams. That was fast. The Kelvins can’t even get here for 300 years._

HOUSE OF HORRORS: TANTALUS TORTURE DEVICE REASSEMBLED FOR NEW DOCUMENTARY

_The Tantalus V penal colony? The neural neutralizer?_ Jim wondered with a grimace and a cold shiver. 

That “treatment” room had been a nightmare for him and dozens of vulnerable mental patients. The swirling, pulsing lights of the device could erase a person’s memory, make them susceptible to suggestion, and cause excruciating pain when resisted. Kirk resisted and Dr. Adams had cranked it up to maximum power. Jim remembered how it felt to his naked mind: like all of his social connections had snapped and everyone close to him was being pulled away at light speed, leaving him empty and utterly alone. 

Ironically, Dr. Adams had later died in that chair, a victim of his own invention. His mind emptied, he had essentially died from loneliness. 

As they left Tantalus’ orbit, McCoy had remarked, “It's hard to believe that a man could die of loneliness."

“Not when you've sat in that room,” was Jim’s sober response.

Both Bones and Spock had kept a watchful eye on him after that comment. For a week or more they always seemed to be there at mealtimes, in the rec room, the gym… wherever he was. He knew what they were doing, but it felt good to have his friends close. He woke panicking a couple of nights that first week and sought them out. They were always there for him. 

Jim feared maybe the neural neutralizer had permanently damaged him, but McCoy said he just needed time, and that turned out to be true. He had a few counseling sessions with Dr. Helen Noel, their staff psychologist. She understood the situation well because she had been involved. Gradually, Jim began to feel more like himself and his friends sensed it, giving him his standard amount of space again. 

That was four years ago. 

_Why on Earth would they reassemble that thing?! What is Van Gelder thinking?_ Kirk’s anger roiled as he opened the story.

It turned out that Dr. Simon Van Gelder, himself a victim of Dr. Adams’ “treatment” room, had retired several months ago. The new head of the penal colony, Dr. Bruges, made the choice to allow a film crew into the secure facility to make a documentary about the neural neutralizer. Apparently, there was a large donation made to the facility after Bruges agreed to reassemble the mysterious device, so they could film it operating.

_Oh, for the love of God!_ _Money talks,_ Jim thought.

He skimmed through the story. There was a quote from Dr. Bruges explaining that all settings except the very lowest intensity level had been disabled. He guaranteed that no one would ever sit in that chair again and Dr. Adams’ original treatment room had only been recreated “for cinematic purposes.” 

“Storytelling is very important, so that nothing like this can ever happen again to innocent patients,” Bruges explained.

_…or innocent starship captains. I hope they don’t contact me for this documentary_ , Jim thought. He really didn’t want to reopen that particular can of worms. 

From across the room, his bedside chronometer showed 21:55. Five minutes until his planned lights-out time. He’d even set the lights to go off automatically at 22:00, so he couldn’t fudge. He chuckled softly at how strict he was with himself sometimes, but he owed it to his crew to be rested and at his best. 

As he reached to switch off his computer, he noticed that there was a 2-minute video attached to the neural neutralizer story. He decided to watch it…

***

The room was dark except for the faint blue glow of his blank computer screen. Jim was at a loss to explain it. From his desk chair he could see the red shining numbers of the chronometer by his bed. 

22:04. 

Why hadn’t he gotten in bed by 22:00? He was mad at himself. 

_I had it timed so perfectly. What happened? Did I fall asleep in the chair?! I must have been reading something really boring._

He couldn’t remember what he had been doing. Writing a report? A letter?

_Yes. I was writing to Peter. Did I finish? Wow, I must be more tired than I thought. I’ll finish tomorrow._

He took off his robe and climbed into bed. At first the pillow felt soft and relaxing under his head, but after ten minutes, he still wasn’t asleep. He kept opening his eyes to check… something. The darkness of his quarters felt strange in some way. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but it disquieted him.

He thought about how Peter had called his guardians “mom and dad.” He was sure now that he didn’t like it. Sam had been forgotten. He pictured Sam holding Peter on his shoulders when he was little. Sam loved that boy so much and died trying to protect him. 

_Damn it!_ Sam was gone and Peter didn’t even care. _Oh, Sam, my brother!_ It occurred to Jim as if for the first time that Sam was dead. Dead and buried and he would never see him again. Why hadn’t he been more upset about this? He was alone, his only sibling GONE. A panicky feeling rose in his throat and he sat up. 

_I’m alone. ALONE._

It felt like he couldn’t breathe. He switched on the lights and was able to catch his breath a bit.

_I need Bones. Something’s wrong with me._ He reached for the comm, but then remembered McCoy, Spock, and his other officers were down on the planet at the party. The party. That’s where HE should be.

_It was my choice to be alone,_ he remembered. That decision seemed foolish to him now. _I should be with my friends._ _I want to be with my friends!_ The need seemed urgent, like a matter of life or death and he threw his casual clothes back on and raced to the transporter room.

“Beam me down, Halloway,” Jim said to the transporter operator on duty. “Has anyone beamed up from the party yet?”

“A few, Sir, but most are still there,” the young man answered.

“Spock and McCoy?” he asked as he positioned himself on the platform.

“Still planetside, Captain,” Halloway said.

“Good. Put me on the beach where you beamed me up earlier, if possible.”

“Certainly, Sir.” The young man was proud of his precision.

“Energize.”

“Energizing.”

Kirk appeared in a sparkly column of sudden light that was immediately noticed by nearly everyone there.

“Captain Kirk! You’re back,” Miss Lerrint called from the middle of a large group of party-goers near the tree line. They all turned to look at him. “Come join us!” another girl called. Scotty and Sulu were in that group and beckoned him with welcoming waves.

The music, appetizing smells, and social scene drew him up the beach like a magnet. A Lyran lady put a drink in his hand and he was instantly swallowed up by the small crowd, surrounded by compliments and questions. Everybody wanted to congratulate him on the signing of the trade agreement and get a chance to talk to him a little. His earlier feelings of panic and aloneness evaporated in the balmy breeze and torchlight. He charmed them easily with his natural gift of gab and friendly manner. He felt good again. Really good. Right as rain.

Scotty had gotten pretty tipsy by now off the local fermented juices the Lyrans favored. He slapped the captain on the back several times and called him “laddie.” Jim loved it.

Sulu said, “Captain, everyone was asking about you. I’m so glad you got to come back.”

“Thanks, Mr. Sulu. The Lyrans throw a fine party.”

“They sure do,” Sulu agreed.

From the corner of his eye, Jim saw Uhura approaching in her lime green and turquoise sarong. She looked radiant, so he said so.

“You look a little radiant yourself, Captain. Are you having a good time? I thought you weren’t coming.”

“What, and leave all this natural beauty for my crewmen to enjoy without me?” he gestured his hand in such a way as to encourage the dual meaning of the tropical scenery _and_ Uhura. He winked at her and she melted. The captain’s charisma when he unleashed it was a powerful force. All of the ladies present felt it and were vying for his attention. 

“Let’s dance!” he said suddenly and she gladly took his outstretched hand and let him lead her to an area near the drums where other people were dancing. He held her in his arms, enjoying her good company as they swayed to a slow song. Why on Earth had he wanted to skip this party? It was splendid! His heart felt so happy, his mood so light. Uhura was smiling in his arms, pleased to see her captain so obviously delighted with the moment.

The music changed to a song with a rapid, pounding beat and Uhura broke away and started doing some dance Kirk didn’t know. He tried to follow along, imitating her movements, but there was a lot of stomping and hip swiveling and she couldn’t help but start laughing at him. He laughed at himself.

“Here,” she said, putting her hands on his hips to guide them. He got the rhythm soon enough and people started gathering around to watch them. It was a very sexy dance, but Jim was just having fun and letting loose. Uhura knew this. She was having fun, too. It was rare they could act this way around each other. It felt great. 

There was someone Uhura wished could be seeing this. Her friend, Mrs. Baharia, one of the ladies who worked in the galley had once remarked to Uhura in her Louisiana accent, “Our Captain Kirk is one beautiful man, isn’t he, child? Mmm mm!” Since she was 62, the oldest person on the Enterprise, she could get away with saying things like that. She thought the world of the captain and always made his favorite foods for him on his birthday. Uhura usually planned the party, and Mrs. Baharia cooked some real, non-reconstituted food by hand just for the captain. Kirk never failed to ask for seconds and reward her with a boyish grin and glowing words of gratitude. She adored him.

As they danced, Uhura glanced around, looking for Mrs. Baharia. She wouldn’t want to miss this! It was pretty late, maybe she’d gone up to bed. Nope! There she was on the edge of the dance floor, swaying to the music and clapping like many other people had begun to do. Her face said she was loving every minute of their dance. Uhura caught her eye and the lady gave her a thumbs-up and mouthed “beautiful man!” Uhura smiled and waved at her.

“Is that Mrs. Baharia?” Jim asked. “Mrs. Baharia! Come join us,” the captain called. 

At first she demurred, but Jim danced Uhura right over to her and drew her out onto the dance floor. The three of them danced together and Jim felt thrilled to have two partners with such rhythm. Mrs. Baharia’s beautiful yellow scarf floated on the breeze, wafting around her dark skin as the captain whirled her in circles, while holding Uhura around the waist with his other arm.

Out of nowhere, Chekov appeared and made a playful, drunken attempt to cut in, on whom no one was sure.

“Beat it, kid. The adults are dancing,” Uhura said.

Kirk thought this was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. He was mildly aware that he was acting tipsy, and that might not be wise in front of the Lyrans, but everything was just so pleasant and lively. All of the people and the festive spirit and… Spock.

“Spock!” Jim called out loudly over the music when he spotted his first officer… as if Spock might miss him if he didn’t identify himself. 

It would be incorrect to call Spock a killjoy, but his presence did tend to have a dampening effect on people’s high-spiritedness sometimes. He didn’t disapprove of his human shipmates’ need to “let off steam” and socialize, but his facial expression, paired with his lack of participation, made him seem more disapproving than he actually was. Spock looked dour compared to Dr. McCoy, who Jim just noticed was with him.

“Bones! Spock!” Jim realized he was almost too out of breath to call to them and reluctantly decided to take a break from dancing.

“Ladies, you are both exceptional dancers. Thank you for the pleasure of your company.” He bowed his farewells and as he walked away Uhura and Mrs. Baharia hugged each other in glee. “Oh, the manners on that boy!” Mrs. Baharia said, fanning herself.

Realizing the ladies had lost their partner, Sulu and Scotty stepped up. The captain wasn’t the only one with good manners.

Jim greeted his two best friends with a big smile. He moved them away from the drums a bit so they could talk better.

“Boy, I forgot you can really cut a rug, Jim!” Bones said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance with such gusto and for so long. Wish I had your stamina.”

“How long were you two watching?” Jim wondered. “I didn’t see you.”

“Well, with two beautiful women to dance with, you didn’t need to be lookin’ at us,” McCoy joked.

Although they had moved a fair distance from the dance floor, they were still talking very loud, Kirk realized. 

“Spock, does this music hurt your ears?” Jim asked.

“No, Captain, though the decibel range does make conversation difficult. May I suggest we walk down the beach if we wish to continue conversing?”

“Good idea. Let’s go,” Jim said.

“I never thought I’d hear Spock suggest a midnight stroll on a tropical beach,” Bones teased.

Spock didn’t bother responding.

“I’m glad you’re having fun, Jim. It’s been a long week,” Bones said. “Spock told me you weren’t in a party mood, though, and you’d stuck him with merry-mingle duty.”

“I do not recall saying that, Doctor,” Spock protested.

“He’s been doing one hell of a job, too. You know how many drunken councilmen and trade experts he’s had chewin’ on his pointed ears tonight?”

“Oh, I’m sorry Spock,” Jim said. “I don’t mind taking over all that now, if you want to go back to the ship.” 

They had moved far enough down the beach by now that it was quiet. There were a few lovers strolling hand in hand, talking, while the small waves made a gentle swoosh against the fine sand. The moon reflecting on the water was brighter than Earth’s moon and shone with more of a pinkish hue. It cast a lovely light over the scene. 

“May I ask why you changed your mind about attending tonight, Captain?” Spock asked.

In the warmth of his friends’ company, Jim’s strange episode of panic in his cabin seemed far away and silly. He had no idea what had made him feel so lonely and desperate, but he didn’t feel that way now, so he decided not to mention it. Instead he settled for, “I couldn’t sleep.”

If he told them the truth and said the event was preceded by thoughts of never seeing Sam again, Bones would probably just say that he hadn’t properly worked through the death of his brother. That was no doubt true, but he didn’t want to talk about that now. 

Not now, with Spock looking so spectacular in that burgundy shirt of his and Bones in such a fine, grouchless mood. He had the impulse to walk arm-in-arm with them, with himself in the middle. Bones wouldn’t mind that, but Spock might. He knew Spock’s hands were sensitive and he didn’t like having them touched. Jim wasn’t sure about the Vulcan’s arms. Perhaps that would be all right. He’d touched Spock’s arms many times and he never got the feeling Spock minded. Jim had his best friends on either side of him, shoulder to shoulder, but it didn’t feel like quite enough somehow. He wanted the intimacy the couples on the beach were enjoying. 

_Oh, for Heaven’s sake! I’ve known Spock for nearly five years. Bones even longer._ Jim decided to just do it. He slipped his arms through theirs as they walked. Bones smiled warmly. Spock gave no reaction but didn’t pull away. As they continued up the beach, the doctor remained chatty, but Spock grew silent.

“Is this okay with you, Spock,” Jim checked, “walking with our arms linked like this?”

“Yes, Captain, though I am not sure I understand what it denotes.”

Bones snickered, but let Jim explain, since he wasn’t 100% sure either.

“Friendship, camaraderie… I guess I’m just getting nostalgic,” Jim said wistfully.

“Nostalgic, Captain?” Spock questioned.

“Our 5-year mission is almost up. We’ve had some good times… and they’re going to end.” Kirk sighed.

“Not necessarily, Jim,” McCoy said. “You don’t know yet what Starfleet Command has in store for us… wait, do you?”

“No, I haven’t heard anything,” Jim assured them. “I’ll let you know when I do.”

“You still thinkin’ about going to that Vulcan country club in the mountains of Gol, Spock, when the mission ends?” McCoy asked.

Spock had described Gol to them as a kind of retreat of enlightenment. Neither McCoy nor Kirk knew what it really was.

“Yes, Doctor. It remains one of my considerations,” Spock said noncommittally.

Jim grit his teeth. What would he do without Spock? The thought sent a jolt of worry through his whole body. As they walked, he let his hand slip down until it was touching Spock’s. He knew Spock would allow this, provided McCoy couldn’t see… and he couldn’t.

He held Spock’s hand loosely, hoping perhaps the touch-telepath could hear his thoughts. _Please don’t go to Gol. I’ll be lost without you. Lost._

Spock turned his head and looked at him, but Jim couldn’t tell from his expression if the message got through or not. He became self-conscious under Spock’s scrutiny and reluctantly let go of his friend’s hand.

Just then, McCoy slowed down and said, “We better be heading back. We’ve gotten pretty far away from the party. I can’t even hear the drums anymore.”

Spock could hear them, and he could still hear the echo of Jim’s feelings in his mind. 

They turned around and started back. “It’s too quiet,” Jim said. “Somebody tell some jokes.” His mood was slipping sideways and he wanted to regain the warm feelings he’d had a few minutes ago.

“Okay, Spock, you heard the captain. Lay your best jokes on us,” McCoy teased.

Spock raised an eyebrow.

“Bones, I think the floor is yours,” Jim suggested.

“Hm. Let’s see,” McCoy considered. “All right, I’ve got one: Three Vulcans walk into a bar….”

After a few beats of silence, Jim said, “Well?”

Bones started chuckling.

Spock said, “I believe that is the entirety of the ‘joke,’ Captain. The doctor finds my race’s disinclination toward imbibing intoxicants humorous.” 

“Wow, Jim. Spock got it before _you_ did? You’re slipping.”

“Well, I’ve imbibed some intoxicants tonight,” Jim defended with a smirk.

“Me too,” Bones chuckled. “They were delicious. The Lyrans brew some quality stuff.”

“Ferment,” Spock corrected.

“Huh?” the doctor grunted.

“The Lyrans employ the process of fruit juice fermentation by combining…” Spock began, but was cut off mid-sentence by a scoff from McCoy.

“Leave it to you to know exactly how it’s _made_ , but not how it _tastes_ ,” the doctor jabbed. “Do you ever cut loose, Spock? I’d love to see you dancing with abandon sometime like Jim was tonight.”

Jim smiled sheepishly. He was beginning to feel a bit embarrassed about that and hoped he hadn’t made too much of a spectacle of himself. The thing is, he wasn’t drunk. Not even a little bit. He’d only had two sips of that drink the lady had handed him. Just the energy of being around people had been intoxicating to him. He’d felt supercharged from it. Such a stark contrast to the frightening emptiness he had felt in his quarters. 

He suddenly wondered if he’d feel that way again when he returned to the solitude of his cabin. Jim didn’t want to find out. He wanted to stay here at the party with his friends until he was utterly exhausted. He felt such a strong love for them, such a consuming need for their presence.

They were approaching the torchlight and music of the party now and Jim wanted to sprint up the beach, dragging his two best friends with him, and return to the festivities that gave him such a sense of well-being. He wondered if Spock would dance with him if he asked. No, probably not.

“How about a race?” he suggested instead, bolting ahead of Spock and McCoy. When he was a few feet ahead of them, he spun awkwardly around on the dry sand and jogged backwards, coaxing them to accept his challenge.

McCoy glanced at Spock, then back at Jim. He wanted no part of this. “Soooo, Spock comes in first, you’re second, and I’m third,” he predicted with certainty. “There. Now we don’t have to actually race.”

Just then, a portly Lyran man called to them from the venue. “Captain Kirk! Your chief engineer is in need of assistance. Can you spare your doctor?”

Alarm shot through them. “What has happened?” McCoy called, quickening his pace.

“Well… it’s not so much that anything’s _happened_ to him. He just… requires some medical attention after… um, overindulging a bit.”

“Ah,” McCoy said, gathering his meaning.

Spock and Jim exchanged a look of understanding. Scotty could usually hold his liquor, but these fermented fruit concoctions were deceptively potent and had apparently gotten the better of him.

“Well, Jim,” Bones grumbled, “looks like I’m gonna be puttin’ a Scotsman to bed. You and Spock stay, enjoy the party. I’ll make sure he’s tucked in tight with his plaid jammies and teddy bear.” He spared a moment to wink at Spock. Bones had never forgotten Spock’s mother mentioning that his childhood pet resembled a fat teddy bear.

Spock gave him the partial eye roll he expected.

Jim laughed. “Okay, thanks Bones. Are you going to come back?”

McCoy glanced at the venue. “Looks like things are gonna be wrapping up here soon. I think I’ll just turn in. See you two tomorrow.” 

“Oh. All right then,” Jim said hesitantly. He watched as McCoy trudged across the sand, following the stout man until they both disappeared into the tree line. It felt like part of himself was being pulled away. He turned back to Spock.

“Well, Spock, how about that race now? Just you and me.”

Spock looked at his captain’s hopeful face. It was glowing from the dancing, walking, and pink moonlight. Spock knew he could refuse him nothing. He nodded.

“Great!” Jim said with a big smile. “I have an idea, though…. Bones was right; you’ll beat me easily without a handicap, so I’m thinking we’ll run down the beach to that far pier and back… but _you_ run on the dry sand and _I’ll_ run on the wet. That way, I just may have a fighting chance.”

“A reasonable accommodation, Captain. I accept the challenge.”

Jim was glad Spock approved. He couldn’t tell if his friend was excited about the race or not, but he was willing to indulge him and that was good enough.

“Okay, you stay here and I’ll go down to the water,” Kirk said. As he turned, he called over his shoulder, “On ‘GO,’ we’ll race down the beach, touch the pier, turn around, and this will be our finish line.”

“Very well, Captain.”

Kirk had asked Spock to call him ‘Jim’ when they were alone dozens of times over the years. Sometimes Spock just didn’t seem to want to. Jim didn’t mind. It made the occasions when Spock _did_ use his first name all the more intimate. 

Jim’s adrenaline was surging now, as he formed his runner’s stance on the damp sand. Vulcans didn’t have adrenal glands. Their baseline level of arousal was always adequate to any physical task. It wasn’t likely Jim would win, but he was going to try his darnedest. 

“On your mark. Get set. GO!” he shouted. 

They dashed down the beach, sand flying from their heels. The shore was deserted now, so no one was watching them. Just a human and a Vulcan testing themselves against each other in the warm embrace of the night. Spock was a lithe, powerful runner, and not unaccustomed to running on sand, but it was slowing him down a bit, as Jim had hoped. What a pleasing figure he cut in that billowing burgundy shirt, moving swiftly against a background of shadowy trees. The pink moonlight gave his skin a human appearance.

_Concentrate_ , Jim told himself. Spock was a tough competitor; he wasn’t going to let him win out of deference. That wasn’t Spock’s way. Jim respected him for it. There were a few shells and stones on the wet sand that could trip him up if he weren’t careful, so Kirk kept his eyes forward and focused on getting to the pier. They touched it and turned at nearly the same time. Spock’s pivot was more efficient and he gained maybe half a second on Jim.

His heart pounding and lungs heaving, Jim started to fall further behind. They were almost back to the starting line when the unlikely happened… Spock tripped. A piece of driftwood or possibly a hidden tree root caught his foot and he went down hard, sprawling on the sand. Momentum carried Jim across the finish line, then he ran to where Spock lay and crumpled down in an exhausted heap beside him. He could tell his friend wasn’t hurt, but he asked anyway.

“You okay, Spock?”

“Yes,” Spock said, sounding displeased with himself. “Congratulations, Jim. You ran a good race,” Spock offered, as he propped himself up on one elbow.

The Vulcan rarely lost at physical challenges, but when he did, he was invariably gracious in defeat.

The praise, paired with the use of his first name, made Jim’s heart swell. He put his hands on his friend’s chest, pressing him back into the cool sand instead of helping him up. He looked at his parted lips and into his dark eyes with such a fond, yearning expression that for a shocked moment, Spock thought Jim was going to kiss him. Instead, he slid his hands around Spock’s torso and hugged him tightly, laying his head against the Vulcan’s chest. 

“Oh, Spock,” was all he said. 

Spock was at a loss to understand what had prompted this ardent display of affection. He didn’t mind Jim’s touch, but they had just been competing in a sports contest and he struggled to understand the context. None of Jim’s skin was touching his and he had no access to his emotional state. Earlier, though, when Jim had taken his hand, Spock had sensed anguish. His captain was a complicated man. Often his inner emotions did not match his outward demeanor. Spock was like that himself, although he was loath to admit it.

He didn’t want to embarrass Jim by saying the wrong thing, so he said nothing and just laid his hand on his captain’s back and lay still, allowing the embrace. Jim was still breathing heavily; perhaps he just needed to rest a bit and Spock’s chest was a way to keep his head off the sand. It seemed like more than that, though. 

If Spock were honest with himself, he was never more gratified than when he was supporting Jim, in whatever capacity the captain needed. He hoped he was giving Jim what he needed right now. His friend had been the very picture of carefree abandon tonight, but he’d sensed a dark undercurrent when he held his hand. 

_He wanted me to see it,_ Spock thought. It was what humans might call “a cry for help.” 

Unsure of himself, Spock slid his hand slowly up Jim’s back until his long fingers reached the bare nape of his neck. Jim was too preoccupied listening to Spock’s heartbeat to realize that the Vulcan was attempting to ‘take his psychological temperature.’ He sighed reflexively as Spock rubbed his neck. All Spock sensed in him now was contentment. He could feel Jim’s pleasure in his company, the warm feeling of connection Jim was deriving from their physical contact. 

Jim’s feelings for Spock were profound. Spock already knew this, but their intensity tonight surprised him. He found himself desiring a proper meld, so he could hear Jim’s thoughts and commune with him on a deeper level. The captain had been so confident at the party, but his current actions spoke of a vulnerability that Spock wanted to understand.

Gradually, Jim became aware of Spock’s concern and raised up, not wanting to cause him distress. “I’m okay, Spock,” he assured, rolling off of him and standing up. He brushed off the sand quickly and offered his hand to help Spock to his feet. 

“I’m tired. Let’s go home,” Jim said, when they were both standing. He helped Spock brush the sand off his clothes and finally gave him the compliment that he’d been aching to give all evening: “That shirt looks splendid on you. The color, the fit… everything.” 

“Thank you, Jim,” Spock said. 

The texture had felt amazing, too. Jim’s face had been pressed to that shirt for five…? Ten minutes? How long had it been? He’d been sailing on a calm sea where time didn’t exist. 

_Oh, Spock._ Jim wanted to reach for him again. Touch him. Feel him inside his mind. 

“Jim, perhaps we could...”

Whatever Spock had been going to say was cut off by the beep of his communicator. Jim watched as elegant fingers gracefully pulled it from a concealed pocket somewhere and flipped it open.

“Spock here.”

“Mr. Spock, Ensign Braniff here,” the night-shift navigator said from the bridge. “Am I disturbing you, Sir?”

“State the problem, Ensign,” Spock directed.

“Yes, Sir. It’s the navigation computer. It’s not taking coordinates correctly. I have plotted our course to Deneva, but my console won’t accept the instructions. Since we’re leaving orbit at 06:00, I thought I’d better contact you now, Mr. Spock, so you could take a look at the problem.”

“I will be there momentarily, Mr. Braniff. Spock out.”

“Hm, I wonder what the trouble is?” Jim said. “Sounds like it could be serious.” He whipped open his communicator. “Kirk to transporter room.”

“Halloway here, Captain.”

“Two to beam up.”

Kirk took one last look at the beautiful surroundings before the scene dissolved in a shower of gold.


	2. Chapter 2

“Can you fix it, Mr. Spock?” Ensign Braniff asked. 

For the past 20 minutes he’d been handing various instruments down to Spock, who was lying on his back beneath the navigation console trying to discover the problem.

“I believe I have located the malfunction,” Spock declared at last.

“Will you be able to fix it by our scheduled departure time, Spock?” Kirk asked. He had come up to the bridge with Spock to see just how big of a problem they were dealing with.

“Yes, if I begin repairs immediately,” Spock replied. The ship’s chronometer read 03:25 and he estimated he could make the corrections and run all necessary tests and simulations before 06:00.

“The repairs will require...”

Spock began listing off tools and components to Ensign Braniff who ordered them from Stores.

“Captain, Mr. Braniff and I can handle this if you would like to retire,” Spock offered.

Kirk hesitated for only a few moments. He knew he should get some sleep if he wanted to be good for anything tomorrow. 

“Okay, Spock. If you need me, comm me.” He didn’t relish the idea of leaving the bridge… or Spock, but he strode to the turbolift and headed for his quarters. 

When he arrived, he put the lights to full bright and turned on some cheerful music. He checked his intra-ship messages. He had none to respond to, so he stripped off his clothes and hopped in the shower. _Definitely a WATER shower tonight,_ he decided. _Sonics won’t get this sand off me._

Standing under the water stream, he began to scrub. Boy, sand sure had a way of getting everywhere. He hoped Spock wasn’t too uncomfortable up on the bridge; he wouldn’t have a chance to change clothes or shower for awhile. Jim could have watched him for hours, hard at work, lying on his back on the deck of the bridge, long legs stretched out from underneath the navigation console, working his magic with computers like only _he_ could. 

Jim remembered when Spock had saved his career by discovering the ship’s computer had been tampered with by their records officer, Ben Finney. One person in 10,000 could have refuted the irrefutable like that, proven that the records had been falsified. Spock. His first officer had spent hours trying to collect evidence of his innocence, convinced there was no way his captain had jettisoned a manned pod on yellow alert. 

It never would have occurred to Jim in a million years that his old friend Ben would fake his own death to hurt him. It occurred to Spock, though. The Vulcan had a brilliant mind and had saved his neck on many occasions. Spock was an asset beyond price.

As he lathered up, Jim thought of Spock lying in the sand. His pink lips, the feel of his heart hammering in his side, his strong body thrumming with life. The desire to be close to him had been irresistible in that moment. He wanted so much from Spock. He wanted to curl up inside him. That mind. That body…

With soap-slicked hands Jim reached down and stroked himself. He imagined a different ending to this night: Spock was here in his quarters, showering with him, touching his body and his mind. The Vulcan’s lean form was pressed against his back and long fingers were everywhere, stroking gently between his legs, cradling and caressing him. _Oh, Spock._ The Vulcan’s sensitive hands massaged his inner thighs and lower belly with soothing pressure before encircling his rigid length and pumping. 

_Ahhh,_ Jim breathed. Spock’s chest was plastered against his back and he could feel that Spock was hard, too. His friend’s mind was merged with his and Jim was privy to all of the feelings Spock guarded so closely. He felt his arousal pulsing through his mind like a heartbeat. _Spock loves me._ Jim already knew this, but feeling the tender emotion sweep through his mind and knowing Spock was so moved by him, was overwhelming. 

_I have wanted this for so long,_ _Jim_ , Spock was thinking. He stopped pumping Jim’s shaft and grabbed him firmly by the hips, entering him from behind while they were melded, filling him in every way. Spock was his, physically and mentally. They were together and he would never be lonely again.

Jim’s orgasm came fast and hard. “Spock!” he cried as he braced himself against the shower walls. Although Jim did daydream about Spock sometimes, he hadn’t ever used a sexual fantasy about him to get off before. It sure did the trick! Wow! That release had taken the last ounce of energy he had; there was no way sleep would elude him now.

He dried off and put on his softest t-shirt and sleep shorts. The lights were on bright and he’d left music playing. After he brushed his teeth, he hesitantly turned the lights off and climbed into bed. The music, he left on low. He closed his exhausted eyes, but immediately opened them again. He had an uneasy feeling.

_McCoy and Scotty._ _I didn’t even check to see if they got back to the ship all right_ , he thought.

They would be asleep now, but the transporter operator would be able to confirm they’d come aboard. He sat up and turned the lights back on.

“Kirk to transporter room,”

“Technician Halloway here, Captain.”

“Have Dr. McCoy and Mr. Scott beamed back to the ship?”

“Yes, Sir… quite a while ago.” The man paused, remembering the state the chief engineer had been in. He hoped the captain wasn’t going to ask him about that.

“Good. Good,” Kirk said, but didn’t sign off.

“Is there anything else, Captain,” Halloway asked after a few moments.

“Have all party-goers returned by now, Mr. Halloway?” Jim was curious. He was protective of his crew on a good day, and tonight he felt particularly concerned for some reason. He wanted all of his little chicks safely back under the wing of the Enterprise.

“I believe everyone’s been beamed back up. I can check the roster, though, Sir.”

“Do it,” Jim said, glancing at his chronometer. It was 04:10. He waited as Halloway looked at the list.

“Everyone has returned except Ensign Chekov and Yeoman Landon, Sir,” the technician reported.

Martha Landon was Chekov’s on-again off-again girlfriend, Jim knew. They were probably having a moonlight swim or a roll on the beach. All crew knew the ship was leaving orbit at 06:00 and needed to return no later than 05:30. Why was he worried? The kids were probably just trying to wring out every moment of tropical island fun they could.

“Has our departure time changed, Sir? Do you want them beamed up?”

“No. No… would you check on their life signs, though, Mr. Halloway?” He wanted to be sure they were all right.

“Yes, Sir. Standby.”

After a moment, Halloway came back on. “I’ve located their life signs, Sir. They’re on the beach… in very close proximity to each other… heart rates are elevated…” 

“All right, Mr. Halloway,” Jim cut him off brusquely.

That was more than enough information. Kirk could tell by the way the transporter technician practically whispered ‘very close’ what the man was seeing on his screen.

“If they haven’t called to beam up by 05:30, alert Mr. Spock. Otherwise, carry on.”

“Yes, Sir. Will do.”

“Kirk out.”

Jim felt a bit strange for ‘spying’ on the lovers with no legitimate cause for concern. He lay back down on his bed and imagined Halloway gabbing to friends about what he’d just seen. _Damn. I wish I hadn’t violated their privacy like that._

Then, a thought occurred to him. Anyone on the Enterprise with the ability to search for life signs could have seen him and Spock in ‘very close’ proximity, lying together on the sand… heart rates elevated. It started to really hit him just how indiscrete that had been. 

_I_ _should check to make certain no one recorded us,_ he thought. 

As captain, Jim was familiar with how most things worked on a starship, but he had to admit that he didn’t quite know how to do that. Spock would. Perhaps he’d already thought of it. Jim winced. His impulsive act of affection would no doubt embarrass Spock if anyone knew. 

Why had he done it? What was he thinking clutching at his first officer like that? Lying on his chest like a lover in a potentially public place! Jim shook his head in amazement. He suddenly felt appalled by his lapse in judgment. He recalled the moment as one of such uncontainable need. He needed to be close to Spock, as close as he could get. 

He remembered looking into Spock’s eyes first. Had they shown surprise? Disapproval? He couldn’t remember. They were dark and deep. His gaze had lingered on Spock’s lips, too, before the embrace. Jim gasped when he realized how close he’d come to kissing them. 

_My God! Where’s my control?_ he wondered. _I should go see Bones. Something isn’t right with my mind._

What would he tell him, though? That he’d experienced an overwhelming urge to kiss Spock in the moonlight? Oh, that would be rich. He didn’t want to embarrass Spock any more than he already had. Perhaps tomorrow he could apologize to his friend in private and ask for his help.

_He could meld with me and maybe figure out what’s wrong._

Then he remembered something that stopped that line of thought in its tracks. The shower! He’d just had an orgasm fantasizing that Spock was fondling him and penetrating him in the shower.

_He’d see that in my thoughts! See it and be disgusted by me. I can never meld with him again._

It seemed like such a terrible loss. The melds that they had shared lately had been very enjoyable. There was so much to Spock, and Jim sensed so much more that he shielded. He’d always thought that possibly someday they would share more of themselves with each other, be more intimate… at least mentally. He didn’t need the other stuff. Being in Spock’s mind, surrounded by his friend’s lofty thoughts, glimpsing the beautiful feelings he suppresses… that would have been enough.

But now. 

Grief and regret welled up. Why had he polluted his mind with such disrespectful imaginings of Spock? He could never show him. Never! Spock would leave. Leave him forever. He’d be alone. 

“Spock,” he whispered in despair. 

***

“A parade? Oh, my. The captain’s not gonna like _that,_ ” Sulu predicted.

Uhura was still digesting the request that had come over her communications console from Deneva a few seconds ago. “What do I say, Mr. Spock?” she asked. “They’re waiting for a reply.”

“Tell them their… generous offer will be relayed to the captain for a decision as soon as he becomes available,” Spock recommended.

“So… stall,” she summarized.

“Correct.”

It was 08:00 and the captain was apparently still sleeping. They had gotten underway on schedule two hours ago, thanks to Mr. Spock’s excellent work.

Ensign Braniff, the night shift navigator was still in Chekov’s seat, expecting to be relieved any minute. Day shift began at 07:00, but Braniff had agreed two days ago to work an extra hour so Chekov could stay late at the party. 

Just then the turbolift door swooshed open and the Russian arrived.

“Good morning,” he greeted cheerfully. “Thanks for spotting me an hour, Valter,” he told Braniff. “I really needed a nap. I owe you vun.”

“No problem, party animal,” Braniff teased as he relinquished the chair to Chekov. “There were some glitches with the nav computer last night, but Mr. Spock got it all sorted out. I’ll let him brief you on it. I’m due in Sickbay for my weekly ‘spa treatment.’”

They all knew Walter Braniff was undergoing a series of dermal regeneration procedures for a deep burn he sustained last month. Nodding to Mr. Spock, the ensign headed for the turbolift.

“Let me know how things go with the parade,” he whispered to Uhura with a grin just before the doors closed.

“Parade?” Chekov asked, curious.

“The Denevans want to throw Captain Kirk a parade,” Sulu explained.

Chekov laughed. “Vell, he deserves it. He did save all of their butts… I mean ‘necks,’” he amended after a glance from Spock.

“I like the idea,” Uhura said. “I think it would be nice if the captain let them express their appreciation with a good, old-fashioned parade.” 

“Can’t you just wisualize him sitting in an open-top hover car vaving to the crowds just like Zephram Cochrane used to do on Earth in the old days?” Chekov said.

Uhura nodded. “I think it’s good for people to see their heroes, and Captain Kirk is a bona fide HERO.”

“That’s for sure… and a mighty fine dancer,” Sulu winked at his friend.

“Oh, he was absolutely on fire last night, wasn’t he?!” Uhura agreed, clasping her hands together under her chin and beaming like a bright-eyed schoolgirl. “I had such a wonderful time… and when he started twirling Mrs. Baharia around the floor… well that was the best thing I’ve ever seen. It made her so happy. She adores that man.”

Everyone smiled at the memory.

Spock was at his station with his back turned, but he was listening to their conversation. He agreed that the captain had exuded a magnetism last night that exceeded even his normally high levels of charisma. Had he been drunk? The crew would never say so outright, but Spock could tell they thought he was. 

That would explain the physical display of affection toward him on the beach. Humans could become overly affectionate when intoxicated. However, the high energy and exceptional motor coordination Jim had displayed while dancing and running on the beach did not support that hypothesis.

After serving with Captain Kirk for 4 years, 8 months, and 27 days, Spock knew him well, but there were still elements of his behavior patterns that he did not fully understand. Jim had touched him affectionately before on many occasions, but always with discretion. His behavior on the beach was _not_ discrete. Spock was unsure what to make of it. 

After he’d corrected the problem with the ship’s nav computer, Spock had dismissed himself to shower and change. As he’d unbuttoned the burgundy shirt, he remembered Jim’s effusive compliments about it. They had made him feel… good. Jim’s arms around him had felt good, too, and the weight of his captain’s head on his chest. He had been too confused in the moment to process the sensations thoroughly, but as he stepped into the water shower, he began to replay the event in his mind.

_Jim almost kissed me,_ Spock recalled. _Why?_

As he washed, he considered possible reasons. He knew how easily humans could become emotionally over-stimulated by a beautiful setting. He’d observed this phenomenon before on Gamma Trianguli VI, Omicron Delta, Amerind…. He knew Jim was particularly susceptible to this type of ‘Paradise Syndrome,’ and the Lyra 10 beach in the moonlight with the blossom-scented breeze and the distant drum beats was admittedly stimulating. He chose this as the most likely explanation for Jim’s exuberance and tenuous impulse control.

But if Jim had wanted a romantic interlude, there were many ladies at the party who would have been happy to oblige. It didn’t make sense. Spock recalled Jim’s radiant face above him, looking at him with such affection, struggling to find a way to express it that Spock would allow. 

_What if he HAD kissed me? What would I have done?_ Spock wasn’t sure. _How would it have felt?_ The Vulcan allowed himself to wonder. He loved Jim. He’d known that for 2 years, 11 months, and 6 days. Would he have responded to the kiss? The captain would have been embarrassed if he hadn’t, so for that reason alone, Spock decided he probably would have. Shoving Jim off certainly would not have been an option. 

In his mind, he felt Jim’s arms sliding around his body, squeezing him, holding him for so long… so very long. He hadn’t known what to do, what Jim expected of him. He hoped laying his hand on Jim’s back and allowing the lengthy contact had been enough. By the time he thought to move his hand to Jim’s bare neck, all he could sense from the man lying across his chest was joy at the closeness. Spock felt it again now and smiled to himself. 

_Ahh, Jim. Was it enough? Did I provide what you needed?_

Before Ensign Braniff comm’d him, Spock had been about to offer Jim a meld… not there in the open, but back on the ship in one of their quarters. The desolation he had felt from Jim when he’d taken his hand during their walk still worried him. James Kirk was resilient. He had survived tragedy and heartbreak that would excoriate lesser men and somehow he always managed to recover. Perhaps he routinely talked to Dr. McCoy, Dr. Noel, and other friends about his feelings and didn’t need Spock’s aid, but Spock couldn’t convince himself that Kirk holding his hand was anything short of an unspoken plea for help.

Now, back on the bridge, hovering over his science station viewer, Spock found that he was still thinking about it, playing out different scenarios in his mind about how he might bring it up to Jim later. He had briefly considered mentioning his concerns to McCoy, but the good doctor would no doubt fixate on the hand-holding and the hugging and not the emotional distress Spock had glimpsed. He decided to keep this between Jim and himself. He returned his attention to his junior officers’ conversation behind him.

“Pavel, I saw you dancing with Martha last night…,” Uhura probed, hoping to get the scoop.

“Yes, vee are back together,” Chekov announced happily.

“Until the next time you do something stupid,” Sulu teased his friend. 

“Martha calls me a verk in progress,” Chekov joked with a self-deprecating grin. He wanted to tell Sulu they’d had sex on the beach until dawn, but that would have to wait; he had learned that Vulcan ears could pick up even the softest whisper. He often wondered at all of the juicy secrets Mr. Spock must know.

“I think everyone who got to go had a good time last night,” Sulu said. “The Lyrans throw an amazing party. That place was like something out of a tour book!”

“And the food!” Uhura raved. “That meat was so flavorful, and it slid right off the bone.”

Spock remembered that Jim had wanted to try the roast tirinti. He didn’t think he’d gotten to.

“Kirk to the bridge,” the captain’s voice suddenly rang out over the comm system.

“Spock here, Captain.”

“Everything quiet up there this morning, Spock? Did you correct the problem with the nav system?” Jim asked.

“Yes to both, Sir,” Spock responded. He turned toward the command chair and assumed the formal posture of hands clasped behind his back to give his report, even though Kirk couldn’t see him. “We are currently en route to Deveva at warp 6, expected to arrive at 23:30 ship’s time, 09:45 Deneva City time.”

“Good,” Kirk said. “I stopped for some breakfast. I’ll be up to the bridge shortly.”

“Acknowledged,” Spock replied. 

Jim sounded in good spirits. From the background noises, Spock had already determined the captain was in one of the ship’s galleys.

“Have the Denevans sent us an itinerary or agenda of some kind yet?” Kirk inquired. “I’m curious what they have in mind for our visit.”

Spock glanced at Lt. Uhura and nodded once.

“Yes, Captain,” Uhura said. “It arrived a few minutes ago. The planned events are… pending your approval.” She glanced around at the bridge crew who were suppressing smiles.

“Send it to screen 128 in Galley 3, Uhura. I’ll look it over while I eat,” the captain ordered. He was having a nice conversation with Scotty over pancakes and eggs and didn’t want to hurry to the bridge.

“Very well, Sir. Sending it now,” she said.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Spock, anything else time-sensitive that needs my attention?” Kirk asked.

“No, Sir,” Spock replied.

“See you in a bit, then. Kirk out.”

“It would have been fun to see the look on his face when he found out about the parade,” Sulu snickered.

“Vee don’t know for certain the keptin von’t like the idea,” Chekov said just to be contrary.

“I’ll bet you credits to navy beans he comms Uhura any minute and has her put the kibosh on the idea,” Sulu said.

“I vill take that bet!” Chekov replied with a glance at Mr. Spock. They both knew betting wasn’t allowed and didn’t need Spock’s frown to remind them.

***

Jim turned back to Scotty across the breakfast table. His chief engineer was on his second plate of scrambled eggs and his third cup of coffee and he still looked awful. Jim knew he shouldn’t tease him while he had a hangover, but….

“Too much of a good thing last night, Scotty?” Kirk jabbed.

Scotty bowed his head in shame. “Ach. It’s hard for a good Scotsman ta admit it, but I’m not holdin’ my liquor like I used ta.”

Jim chuckled. “Don’t worry, Scotty. I barely had two sips of that glorified fruit juice and I felt a buzz. Strong stuff.”

Scotty managed a wee smile. “I heard ye danced with Uhura and Mrs. Baharia. Sorry I missed that.”

“Oh, you didn’t miss anything,” Jim said humbly. “Just having some fun on our last night on Lyra 10.”

Scotty smiled… a real one this time. 

Right on cue, Mrs. Baharia popped her head into the dining area; she had heard the captain was there.

“Good morning, Captain, Mr. Scott,” she called as she approached.

Scotty, Kirk, and everyone sitting at the tables near them acknowledged her with big smiles. There wasn’t a person onboard who didn’t like Mrs. Baharia. 

“Oh, I had such a lovely time last night, Sir. What an exceptional dancer you are, young man!” she flirted fondly.

Kirk grinned.

“My 62-yr-old muscles are still screaming,” she joked.

Kirk waved away her self-deprecation. “Ha. I’m not buying that. You’re fitter than I am. I could barely crawl out of bed this morning.”

“Do you want me to make you something special, Captain?” the lady offered.

“These pancakes are hitting the spot just fine. Thank you, though,” Kirk said.

He got a mischievous idea. “You know… Scotty here was just saying how much he would have liked seeing us dance. Care to put on a second show?” Jim stood up and surprised her by offering his hand.

“What? Right here in the galley? Oh, goodness,” she gaped.

“Sure, why not?” the captain said with confidence.

The crew seated nearby who’d overheard started clapping and cheering. One yeoman leapt up to change the background music to something with a Calypso beat. 

Mrs. Baharia had lived long enough to recognize an unmissable opportunity when she saw one, so she accepted his impromptu invitation with a cheerful little curtsey and stretched out her hand to him.

He in his uniform and she in her cook’s clothes swayed and whirled all around the galley to the delight of the smiling crew. Some had seen them dance last night but most hadn’t and were pleased by the unexpected entertainment with breakfast. 

In the middle of their dance, Dr. McCoy walked in with Nurse Chapel. Christine smiled immediately at the happy spectacle. She and Bones made their way over to Scotty and sat down.

McCoy’s eyes were still wide. “What prompted _this_?” he asked the engineer.

“Me, I suppose,” Scotty answered. “I was just sayin’ that I wished I’d seen his dancin’ with the lassies last night an’ he went an’ gave me this encore!”

When it was obvious Mrs. Baharia was tiring, Kirk did one final spin, then pulled her into a tight hug. When they parted, he kept hold of her hand and bowed gallantly to her. She curtsey’d back to a round of cheers and applause.

“Oh, my!” she kept saying. “Oh, my!” 

When the cheering died down, Jim turned to Scotty and said loudly, “It looked something like _that,_ Mr. Scott.” Galley 3 rippled with cheers. Mrs. Baharia gave a happy little wave to the crowd and returned to the kitchen. Jim took his seat and everyone went back to their breakfasts.

“That was wonderful, Captain!” Christine gushed. “How come you never dance with me that way, Doctor?” she asked in mock annoyance. 

“Hmph,” McCoy grumped and glared at Jim. “Well, thanks, Captain Perfect. You’ve made all of the other men on the Enterprise look like stiffs.”

“He’s been doin’ that for years,” Scotty quipped.

The captain smiled wickedly over his coffee. “Go get yourselves some breakfast. There’s something I’m supposed to be reading. He switched on the screen at his table and accessed the Denevans’ proposed agenda for his visit. He perused it while Chapel and McCoy went to the food synthesizer. By the time they got back he was frowning.

“What’s wrong, Captain?” Scotty asked.

“Hm. The Denevans want me to visit my brother’s grave with my nephew.”

His three friends weren’t sure what to say.

“I mean… I was going to anyway, but they want it to be public, a ceremony and photo op.” Jim wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He didn’t want his brother forgotten, and perhaps the boy needed a public reminder of who his father was. 

Jim had never seen Sam’s grave. Hundreds of colonists who hadn’t survived the invasion needed to be buried, and the Enterprise had been called away before a funeral could be arranged. 

“It says here that all 621 Denevans killed in the invasion were buried in the same cemetery just outside Deneva City, my brother included. They want me to lay a wreath in their honor and say a few words,” Jim summarized.

“Well, I think you should, Jim,” Bones said gently. “That would be a nice tribute and mean a lot to them.”

“Yes. I agree,” Jim said solemnly.

They were all respectfully quiet for a few moments. Jim kept reading and soon a little laugh burst out of him.

“Oh, get this!” Jim said. “They want to throw me a parade! An actual parade!”

“For Heaven’s sakes,” McCoy said, rolling his eyes.

“Hm, I think that would be fun!” Christine said. “They want to honor you. You did save their whole colony of a million people, Captain.”

McCoy cleared his throat, loudly. 

Christine smiled and added, “…with a little help from a certain doctor.”

“And a certain Vulcan with a martyr complex,” McCoy begrudgingly conceded. Spock had nearly gone blind offering himself up as a test subject. He deserved some small mention, the doctor decided. 

Jim smiled. They could all smile about it now. 

“They want you, Scotty, and Spock in the air-car with me, Bones,” Kirk said, reading from the screen.

“Oh, no, don’t pull me into this, Jim,” McCoy railed, “I’m not sitting for two hours in a slow-moving hover car, waving like a trained monkey with my neck in a sling!”

Kirk laughed. He knew how much his friend hated his formal dress uniform shirt… and fanfare.

“What if it’s only an hour and a half?” Jim joked.

“Is it?” he asked.

“Yep.”

Bones knew from Jim’s expression that his captain’s mind was made up. “We’re doing it, aren’t we? Oh, for Christsakes!” He slumped.

“Looks like I’ll need to be gettin’ my kilt cleaned and pressed,” Scotty said. He kind of liked the idea of a parade, but wasn’t going to admit it in front of the doctor. McCoy was already annoyed with him for cutting his evening short last night. Scotty was grateful for the doc’s help and discretion and didn’t want to irritate him further.

“I better get up to the bridge,” Jim said, swallowing his last bite of pancakes and picking up his coffee cup to go. “The Denevans need a quick response on this.” He gestured toward the screen before turning it off.

“Gentlemen, Miss Chapel,” Jim said as he rose and took his leave.

As the captain headed for the door, Bones called after him, “Thanks for the dance review! Will there be a dinnertime show?” 

“Meet me back here at 18:00 and find out,” Kirk answered coyly over his shoulder as he strode out the door. He was happy they’d given him the opportunity to lock in a dinner date. He rarely ate alone, but right now especially, he didn’t want to be caught with only his own thoughts for the length of a meal.

The three smiled at each other when he was gone. “I’m going to miss that man when the mission is over,” Christine said. “He’s seen us through so much. Do you think he’s getting sad about it? Things coming to an end in three months, I mean,” she pondered aloud. “It seems like lately he’s… I don’t know… trying to really drink it all in. Have you noticed that?”

McCoy and Scotty looked at each other then back at her with a shrug.

“Men,” she said, shaking her head fondly.

***

Jim was feeling really good this morning, considering what a terrible time he’d had getting to sleep last night. Pure exhaustion was the only reason he slept at all, and it was a fitful sleep tormented by bad dreams. He didn’t understand why his mind was plagued with such negative thoughts lately when he was alone. As soon as he was among people again, the emptiness lifted and his normal mindset returned.

It had felt like a lifeline when Scotty spotted him in the corridor this morning and invited him to breakfast. Jim had grabbed on. He’d thought to confide his distress to his friend, but once they were inside the crowded galley with the chattering of his lively crew, the ghosts of the night flew away. He’d felt such relief. It was like a hypospray from McCoy when he was injured. The sudden freedom from pain was euphoric. 

That’s how he felt now headed for the bridge. The only way he’d been able to pull himself away from Scotty and Bones was the knowledge that Spock and the others waited for him on the bridge. He could flirt with Uhura, tease Chekov, gossip with Sulu, and spar with Spock. Ah, Spock, dearest of all of his friends. He loved Spock. He would have to be careful not to show it. Not in public at least. He vowed never again to make an impulsive mistake like he had on the beach last night.

He stepped into the turbolift and headed to the bridge. Even that little bit of solitude disturbed him, but he could feel his friends growing closer, closer…

“Captain,” Uhura greeted when the door whooshed open.

“Good morning, Lieutenant, everyone,” he said cheerfully as the rest of the bridge crew turned to acknowledge him. Seeing them just the way he’d pictured them made him smile. He couldn’t wait to talk to each of them, but first, there was the matter of responding to the Denevans. Taking his command chair, he hummed at how right it felt.

“Miss Uhura,” he began confidently, “please send the following message to the Deneva City leadership: On behalf of myself and my officers, I accept your gracious offer of a parade in our honor. We are looking forward to it…”

Chekov shot a smug I-told-you-so look at Sulu, then Uhura.

“I will also be happy to participate in the wreath-laying ceremony, the proposed aerial tour, and the luncheon reception with the governor and mayor,” Kirk continued, “…and thank you for protecting the privacy of the neighborhood picnic my nephew’s guardians have organized. The Enterprise will be arriving at 09:45 local time.” Jim glanced at Spock for confirmation they were still on schedule and got a nod.

When it was clear he was finished, Uhura said, “Right away, Sir,” and turned to her communications console to send the message.

“Have you ever been in a parade before, Mr. Spock?” Jim asked with a mischievous look.

“Negative,” Spock said blandly.

“You’re going to love it. Sitting with me, Bones, and Scotty in an open car, throngs of grateful Denevans cheering, streamers of ticker tape in your hair…”

Uhura stifled a giggle at Spock’s expression.

“Ticker tape, Captain?” Spock asked.

“Yeah, I don’t suppose they use ticker tape anymore… but you might get _something_ in your hair.”

Spock looked dubious. Jim loved his face and had to remind himself not to hop out of his chair and go hang his arm around his friend. Spock looked so regal, like he was born for a parade. Jim couldn’t wait to sit next to him at all of the events. He was prouder of his association with Spock than any of his own famous achievements. Their partnership had made his accomplishments over the past five years possible. 

He hoped Spock’s sacrifices during the Denevan crisis would be properly acknowledged at the planned events. Peter had told him that all Denevans were acquainted with how circumstances unfolded on the Enterprise as they had struggled to find a way to kill the creatures, but Kirk had found some of his nephew’s facts to be off. If Spock’s contributions were underplayed, Jim determined he would set the record straight. This three-year anniversary would be an opportunity for him to make sure their “legend” was told accurately from here forward on Deneva. 

Kirk knew he was expected to say a few words at both the luncheon and the wreath-laying. He would work up some comments today if all remained calm on the bridge, and he knew just what he wanted to say about all of his senior officers. Spock had willingly risked his vision to stop the invasion and save those colonists. He’d struggled on and on through searing pain to keep helping when most people would have demanded complete sedation. 

Spock wished he knew what was in the captain’s mind right now. Jim was looking at him with such adoration.

_I love you, Spock,_ Jim thought earnestly, and came dangerously close to mouthing it to him. _Watch it,_ he warned himself. Unbridled sentiments were running loose through his mind. He wanted to embrace Spock and tell him how irreplaceable he was. He decided to shunt that impulse to Sulu and Chekov who wouldn’t mind his touch at all. They always loved the attention.

He stepped down from his chair to stand between his navigator and helmsman. Clapping each of them on the shoulder, Kirk said, “You two are off the hook for the parade, but I’d like you at the luncheon and wreath-laying. You, too, Uhura,” he said over his shoulder. 

“Certainly, Sir,” Sulu answered. 

“I’d be honored, Sir,” Uhura said.

“I vill be there, Keptin. Thank you.”

“Bring Martha, too, if you like.” Kirk was feeling generous. “Springtime in Deneva City. Very romantic, I’m told… by my nephew who has his first girlfriend.” He smiled down at his ensign with a wink.

“Oh! Thank you wery much, Sir,” Chekov said. “She vill be so happy. Vee had a vonderful time on Lyra.” The navigator’s expression got dreamy.

“I heard you were the last two to beam up. Just barely made the deadline,” Sulu teased.

“How did you know that?” Chekov asked.

“Halloway,” Sulu said.

“That transporter vorker has a big mouth… and so do you,” Chekov whispered in mock anger.

“Nothing wrong with squeezing as much out of the night as you could,” Jim offered. 

“Eef I’d known there ver problems vith the nav computer, I vould have come back to the ship,” Chekov defended.

“Ensign Braniff and Mr. Spock handled things quite nicely,” Jim said, shooting an admiring look at Spock.

“Vell, I’m sorry I vasn’t here to assist you, Mr. Spock.”

“No apology is necessary, Ensign. Had your assistance been required, I would have recalled you.”

Chekov seemed mollified. “I guess you didn’t mind leaving the party, Mr. Spock? I saw you fielding a lot of boring questions.”

“I saw that, too,” Uhura added. “Did you get to have _any_ fun at the party, Mr. Spock?”

“I had a foot race with the captain on the beach. I found that enjoyable.”

Jim drew in a breath and smiled. He was surprised to hear Spock mention that. “I did, too,” he said.

The bridge crew were intrigued. Sulu loved foot races. Even though he was short, he was fast. “Who won?” he asked, curious.

“The captain won,” Spock replied.

“You _did_?” asked Sulu, incredulous, looking up at the captain. “Uh… I mean Mr. Spock is such a fast runner.”

Jim chuckled. “He gave me quite a handicap… and even then he was beating me right up until I had a bit of unexpected luck.” He would let Spock be the one to say he had fallen, if he wanted to do that.

“There was an inordinate amount of debris near the tree line. In the shadows, it was difficult to discern. I… tripped,” Spock admitted.

Jim remembered the scene and the feelings he’d had. The joy of victory, the beauty of Spock lying in the sand, the feel of him, the sound of his heart. Jim wondered… if Spock were to tell the remainder of the story, how would he tell it? How did he interpret what happened? Jim barely knew how to interpret it himself. He felt so drawn to Spock. He still had his hands on Chekov and Sulu’s shoulders. He wanted so much to be physical like that with Spock, but didn’t trust himself at the moment not to take it too far and embarrass him, so he kept his distance.

“Um, Keptin? Vhat time ver you and Mr. Spock racing on the beach?”

“Hm, about the time the party was breaking up, I guess.”

“So, you didn’t have many spectators, then?”

“None. The beach was deserted as far as I remember,” Jim said. He knew what his ensign was concerned about. “We didn’t see anyone else. Did you and Martha get to take a walk on the beach in that pink moonlight?”

“Yes… a valk. Vee took a valk.”

“I can’t believe you had the energy for a foot race after dancing with me and Mrs. Baharia like that, Captain!” Uhura said. “You are a wonder.”

“Hey, I just turned 37, not 87!” He smiled fondly at her. She did the lion’s share of planning for his birthday parties every year, and he hadn’t shown her much appreciation for her efforts this last time. He regretted that and decided to tell her now. “Lieutenant, the effort you and Mrs. Baharia put into my birthday parties each year is appreciated, if I’ve neglected to tell you that.”

“Oh, Captain. That’s very nice of you to say. It’s always our pleasure,” she said graciously. Then she realized this may be a good opening for something she’d been hesitant to ask. “It was a bit melancholy for me this year, because it was your last birthday with all of us together. When the mission ends, who knows what will happen? You don’t know anything yet, do you, Sir?”

“No, not yet,” Jim answered. He preferred to talk about parties. Lately, if he dwelt too long on thoughts of his crew being disbanded, promoted, reassigned to other posts on other vessels, he got upset. He absolutely could not think about losing Spock. 

“I hope we can all stay together,” Uhura said, with the same tinge of desperation Kirk was feeling. “I know it can’t last forever, but we’re family and I’ll miss all of you when I don’t see you everyday.” It was sincere and from her heart. Jim walked up to her station and she stood up to hug him. He enfolded her in a long, comforting embrace. She was such a lovely woman, so capable and brave. He thought the world of her.

“We’ve had some amazing times. You’re such an asset to me… all of you,” he said, including the wider bridge crew in the praise. It pleased him that most of his crew seemed to want to remain on the Enterprise. 

The only crew member to openly discuss with him the desire to leave was Lt. Kevin Riley. Like Kirk, Riley was ambitious. He’d set his sights on captaining a colony ship someday. _The Vista_ and _The Homestead_ both needed first officers and Riley had asked Kirk if he would support him if he put in for one of those slots. Jim thought he was ready. Riley only needed 60 more command hours to qualify and Kirk promised to do his best to make that happen for him in the remaining months of the 5-year mission. He liked Riley. The lieutenant had proven himself in practically every department on the ship, but was only 6th or 7th in line to be first officer on the Enterprise, so Kirk understood his desire to move on.

Spock watched as Jim began to pace around the bridge. He appeared deep in thought. Kirk was recalling how he, himself, had once wanted to captain a colony ship. They were enormous, built to carry 3,500-4,000 settlers, livestock, food stores, and building materials. When he was 14, Jim had ridden in one and met the crew. It fired his imagination about captaining such a ship one day. The passengers were enthusiastic and the long journey to Tarsus IV was like a party. When tragedy dashed their dreams several months later, the starving survivors were brought home on whatever ships could get to Tarsus first to rescue them. Jim had the fortune to find himself on a starship, with a captain kind enough to give a weak, scrawny kid a tour of the bridge. After that, his aspirations swung toward commanding a vessel like _that_ instead… if he could recover himself physically in time to go to the Acedemy. 

As he walked around _his_ bridge, Kirk considered the past five years and how incredible they had been, beyond his wildest dreams. He glanced at Spock and wondered if his friend was as happy with _his_ career choices. He hoped he was. With Spock’s magnificent mind and talents, the Vulcan could have done anything, been anything. Jim’s heart seized with joy that he was here with him, at least for now. More than anything, Jim wanted to keep him.

After two passes around the bridge, Kirk stopped behind his own chair. He held onto the back and stood ramrod straight. The crew could tell he had something more to say. He took a deep breath.

“There are a million things I can control and a million things I can’t,” he began. “My request is in: another five-year mission with the same ship, same crew… but Starfleet Command might have other ideas. Our fate is in their hands. We’ll go where they need us.”

The crew had not known about the captain’s request until just now and it pleased them. They each had room for pay-grade promotions in their current positions… except for Spock. Jim needed to have a discussion with Spock about what he wanted. His service record certainly warranted a command of his own, but Spock had said that wasn’t what he desired. This leave-of-absence he was considering… Jim wanted to understand it better. What was Spock hoping to accomplish in Gol? Why was it important enough to him to interrupt his Starfleet career?

Jim blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. Then, he came around his chair and sat. “Well,” he said, “I’d better get crackin’ on my speeches. They’re not going to write themselves. Can you have some Denevan historical information at the ready, Uhura, in case I need to reference something?”

“Of course, Sir,” she said.

Settled in with stylus and tablet in hand, Jim spared one more glance at Spock. His first officer had already turned back toward his work.

***

Jim really got into the zone with his speech writing. Ever the perfectionist, he found himself making change after change as better ideas kept occurring to him. He really wanted his remarks at the wreath-laying to shine, to do justice to his brother and the other honored dead. He was surprised when a yeoman came in with coffee and a sandwich for him. 

“Oh, lunchtime already?” he said, turning his tablet upside down to use as a table for his plate, as he often did when he worked through lunch. “Thanks, Matousek.”

“Can I bring you anything else, Captain?” the man asked before he left.

“This is fine. Thank you.”

Kirk kept working after he’d finished his sandwich. When he decided his speech was about 98% finished, he put the tablet aside and stretched. “Ohh, my back,” he complained. “It got stiff sitting for so long.” 

Sometimes, when he complained of a kink in his back or neck, Spock would offer to work it out for him with those strong, precise hands of his, but the Vulcan remained at his science station with his back turned, apparently focused on his work. Jim knew he had heard.

_Spock is afraid to touch me now after I hugged him like that on the beach. It was too much for him. Why did I do that?_ Jim wondered.

His back didn’t hurt that much, but he had a sudden need for physical contact. He couldn’t _ask_ Spock to massage his back. He could only wait for him to offer… and he didn’t. When Yeoman Matousek returned to take his plate, Kirk asked, “Hey Matousek, find me a sparring partner for about ½ hour from now, would you? I feel like some exercise.”

“No problem, Captain,” the yeoman replied.

“Great. I’ll come down to the gym around 14:30.”

Spock was his favorite sparring partner, but if he were too hesitant to rub his back today, Jim decided he shouldn’t impose on him. He really needed a work-out right now, though, and hoped Matousek would find someone strong and gutsy enough to throw him to the mat over and over, if he could.

Another yeoman, from Engineering, came in with a few reports for him to sign. Then, after putting some finishing touches on his speeches, Jim stood up to head to the gym.

“She’s all yours, Mr. Spock,” he said.

Spock turned and acknowledged. His face was unreadable.

“I’m meeting McCoy and Scotty for dinner in Galley 3 at 18:00. Why don’t you join us?” Jim suggested. “Familiarize yourself with Denevan political and social protocols this afternoon and we’ll go over them then.”

“Very well, Captain,” Spock said.

Jim turned for the turbolift. He thought for a moment that Spock wanted to follow, but it was probably just wishful thinking.

***

“Helen, I’ve loved you for years!” Jim said dramatically as Dr. Noel walked up to their table at dinner.

Bones rolled his eyes. “Oh, Lord. _That_ again?”

“Well, I like it,” Helen said with a wink, “and yes, I will join you gentlemen.” She plunked down next to her grouchy colleague and across from the delighted captain. Spock and Scotty nodded a greeting. 

“So, I hear there’s going to be a parade,” she said, poking her elbow into McCoy’s ribs.

Bones shot her a look. “Word gets around,” he said.

“Indeed it does,” she agreed.

“Nothing’s too lavish for the ‘Hero of Deneva,’” McCoy teased. “Next thing, the mayor of Deneva City will be putting up a statue of you, Jim.”

The captain smiled. “If I admit to liking that idea, will you two have me tested for narcissistic personality disorder?”

“Oh, no need, Captain. You have it. You’ve had it for years,” Helen teased playfully. 

“Hm,” he said, giving her the signature Kirk smirk. They were used to this type of flirting with each other. He’d long since forgiven her for using such a sexually-charged suggestion when they were experimenting with Dr. Adam’s neural neutralizer. After Jim got to know Dr. Noel’s personality better, he’d realized that she was flirty like that by nature and hadn’t intended any harm. She liked him and that was just what had popped into her mind. 

It was Dr. Adams who had turned the whole scenario dark. Helen had simply suggested that Jim had swept her off her feet after the Christmas party and they’d enjoyed a private romantic interlude. It was Dr. Adams who turned up the device to full power and forced the suggestion into his mind that he was madly in love with Helen and would do anything for her: lie, cheat, steal, even sacrifice his career. 

Dr. Noel had been very brave climbing through the airway ducts on Kirk’s orders to shut off the Tantalus penal colony’s power source. She even had to do some hand-to-hand combat with one of the guards. She’d disabled him and shut off the power as ordered. He later gave her a well-deserved commendation for that. A staff psychologist shouldn’t have to see such duty, but she had handled herself admirably. 

For a couple of weeks after they’d left Tantalus, the feelings of emptiness that were created by his experience in the treatment room hovered around Jim. A few sessions with Dr. Noel helped him shake them off. They became friendly with each other after that and the whole “Helen! I’ve loved you for years” thing became a joke that they both enjoyed. He had greeted her that way off and on for quite awhile until the joke wore itself out. It made her smile to hear it again today.

“Are you getting some dinner, Helen?” Bones asked.

“Yes, but I’m afraid I have to take it to-go,” she said, standing back up again. “I have a late appt this evening. “Nice seeing you boys, though. Have fun being adored by thousands tomorrow.” The four men respectfully stood as she departed.

She sashayed over to the food synthesizer in her tight blue uniform dress, got her favorite dinner, and shot them a wink and a parade-style wave as she left the mess hall.

“Does she just get more bonnie and blithe every year?” Scotty sighed wistfully.

“Yes, yes she does,” Bones said, “and I get older and older….”

Scotty sighed in commiseration. Jim chuckled.

Spock finished briefing them on Denevan protocols as they ate. Although Jim’s brother had made Deneva home, Kirk had never actually set foot on that planet except during the crisis. They intended to honor him, but he didn’t want to be a clueless hero who didn’t know their customs. It turned out there wasn’t much to trip them up. The Deneva colony had been settled 114 years ago by Terrans primarily from North America. They had maintained their familiar customs and traditions.

“You should find their formal and casual social practices familiar, Captain,” Spock concluded. “I foresee no cultural perils.”

“Their founder, that Marge lady, was from Georgia,” McCoy added.

“Kentucky,” Spock corrected. “Marjorie Hidalgo was from Kentucky.”

“I’m pretty sure it was Georgia,” Bones insisted.

Spock raised an eyebrow and let it go. Jim and Scotty smiled.

“You got your kilt ready, Scotty?” Jim asked.

“Ship shape an’ bristol fashion,” the engineer enthused.

“Three events… being strangled by my own shirt,” McCoy groused. “THREE!” 

“Only _two_ tomorrow,” Jim pointed out. “The wreath-laying is on the 2nd day.”

“Well, that’s _much_ better,” the doctor said sarcastically.

“The picnic at my nephew’s house is casual. You’re all invited to that, by the way, but don’t feel like you have to come. It’s right in the middle of the ship’s night and I know we’ll all be tired from tomorrow.”

“We keep calling it ‘tomorrow,’ but we arrive in five hours,” Bones said, standing up. “I’ve gotta grab some shuteye. We’re meetin’ in the transporter room, are we?”

“Yes. We’ll beam down at 24:00… 10:15 in the morning, local time,” Jim said.

“The luncheon reception is first, right? Then the parade?” McCoy asked to be sure.

“That is correct,” Spock confirmed.

“Good. I’ll trade breakfast for an extra hour of sleep then.”

“I’m gonna hit the rack, too,” Scotty said. He still wasn’t 100% recovered from the party and was actually glad to have a reason to turn in early.

After they’d gone, Jim was alone at the table with Spock.

“Did your gym workout tire you sufficiently, Captain?” Spock asked. “Will you be able to sleep?”

_Was that a jab?_ Kirk wondered. Sometimes with Spock it was hard to tell. Were his feelings hurt because Jim hadn’t asked him to spar?

“I could go for a game of chess if you’re up for it?” Jim offered. He was tired, but didn’t think he could sleep yet.

Spock accepted.

“Rec Room 2?” Jim suggested with a smile. 

They very rarely played in the rec room, preferring the privacy of one of their quarters, but Jim thought Spock might be wary of him still and feel uncomfortable in private tonight. Why had he upset their easy rapport this way? Jim was annoyed with himself.

Spock felt the tension. He still wanted to meld with Jim, but apparently, this wouldn’t be the night. The captain’s choice of venue precluded a personal conversation, by design, Spock realized. He did seem to want Spock’s company, however. The Vulcan stood up and followed him into the hallway. They walked shoulder to shoulder through the corridors to Rec Room 2. The room was moderately crowded when they arrived, but the chess set was free. They sat down to play. 

Jim smiled at him devilishly. “You’ve beaten me the last four games. That streak ends tonight,” he said with confidence. As they played, though, it became obvious Jim’s concentration wasn’t serving him well.

“Okay, well this is just embarrassing,” Jim said, after losing two games in ten minutes. “I must have blown all of my brain cells writing those speeches... or Lt. Ugari smacked me to the mat one too many times. I should be getting some rest anyway.”

“Yes,” Spock said.

Careful not to touch Spock’s hand, Jim reached across the table and squeezed his friend’s forearm through the blue velour. “See you at 24:00. Sorry I wasn’t more of a challenge tonight.”

Jim drew a breath like he was going to add something, but then blew it out and ran his fingers through his hair. 

“Goodnight, Spock,” he said.

“Sleep well, Captain,” Spock replied. 

After Jim had gone, Spock set up the board for the next players and headed to his cabin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a f/m sex scene toward the end of this chapter and a brief discussion of a f/f relationship.

Even before he reached his quarters, Jim felt an unease creeping over him. He forced himself to go in. He needed rest. All of Deneva was going to be looking at him tomorrow, judging him, deciding whether or not he lived up to their notions of a hero. Peter would be judging him, too. He wanted to be at his best, but he suddenly felt drained, weak. 

_What have I gotten myself into?_ he thought. _They’re going to be so disappointed._ An hour ago, he’d loved the idea of being honored by the grateful colonists. What happened? His chest felt tight. He lay in bed in his uniform because he knew it wasn’t going to take; there was no way he could expect to sleep with such an agitated mind. It was too late for a sleeping pill; he had to get up in four hours.

_How am I going to do it?_ he fretted. How could he be the bright, shiny Captain they all wanted to see when he felt so empty? The thought of having to smile and fake it seemed so daunting. He didn’t have the energy. Jim rolled over onto his stomach and squeezed the pillow. He felt hollow and alone.

_The Chronicles of Commander Spirek_ caught his eye on the nightstand. He reached for it and sat up, switching on the light. Spock’s book would give him courage. He would lose himself in this adventure.

It seemed to work at first, but aspects of the story began hitting him in a more personal way than they had before. The Vulcan crew was freezing and starving… _like I nearly starved on Tarsus, light years from my parents or anyone who loved me._

He rarely thought of the feeling of an empty belly gnawing at him, driving him to acts he’d rather forget, but he was remembering it now in vivid detail. Four thousand members of the colony had died quickly by Governor Kodos’ order. That had seemed merciful to Jim at the time. The remaining 4,000 seemed doomed to die slowly. There still wasn’t enough food, and survivors of the famine were disbanding, leaving him. Every man for himself. He was alone.

The Vulcan crew was alone in that tiny wrecked ship, just a speck of dust no one cared about on a massive, blue-white ball of ice in the emptiness of space. They died like that: starved and aching for the warmth of home. What if something like that ever happened to Spock? What if Spock were marooned on some distant world, hurt or dying and Kirk couldn’t get to him? The image struck him like a bolt. _Spock!_ He often worried about Spock’s safety. That was nothing new, but this time he was certain that he would be powerless to save him. He felt impotent, useless. 

Jim sprang up to pace. He wanted to hear Spock’s voice, but forced himself to keep his fingers off the comm. _You’re being stupid. Spock is safe and sound. He’s resting in his quarters. You’ll see him in three hours. Don’t disturb him._

He switched on some music as a final effort to avoid bursting into the corridor. Through force of will, he calmed his racing heart and lay back on his pillow. He picked a dirty limerick he learned in childhood and repeated it over and over, pushing all other thoughts from his mind. He closed his eyes and concentrated on getting the words and the cadence perfect every time. Eventually, his mind was able to shut off and he fell asleep.

When he woke to his alarm a couple of hours later, he was grateful for the nap, but he couldn’t help wonder what was wrong with him. It was disconcerting to have his thoughts fly apart like that. He craved the company of his friends and was relieved that he would be with them in a few minutes. He showered, donned his dress uniform, and dashed out. His cabin was no longer a space he enjoyed. Instead of an island of peace, it seemed like a pit of despair and isolation. He strode to the transporter room as fast as he could without running.

***

The welcome on Deneva was more than Sulu had expected.

“Well look at all _this!”_ Uhura remarked when the transporter released them.

“How festive!” Yeoman Landon agreed. She smiled at Chekov and took his arm. 

Flags flew overhead and all around were colorful posters and signs wishing a warm welcome to the Enterprise crew. Some looked like they’d been done by children and others were truly works of art with the captain’s face reproduced in beautiful detail.

My goodness,” said Sulu as he took it all in.

They had materialized outdoors in a large, urban courtyard. Tall buildings of blue-ish glass rimmed the open plaza. Denevans were gathered around, standing on benches and the edges of planters to get a view of their heroes’ arrival. 

“Welcome, welcome!” said a tall, well-dressed man with graying blond hair. “I am Mayor Endicott. Who do I have the pleasure of addressing?” 

Sulu was ranking officer, so he stepped forward, “I’m Lt. Sulu, helmsman. This is Lt. Uhura, communications, Ens. Chekov, navigator, and Yn. Landon.”

“I’m so glad you could join us,” the mayor said. “Will Captain Kirk be arriving soon?”

“Yes. He sent us down ahead, since the transporter can only beam six at a time.”

“Oh, oh, I see.”

On the beam-down coordinates was a luxurious red carpet that led to the banquet hall where the luncheon reception was being held. The junior officers and Martha Landon were escorted a few feet up the carpet to make space for the arrival of the senior officers. The crowd was excited and there were cheers and shouts of welcome, but when four more figures began to materialize, the crowd fell silent in anticipation. 

“It’s him! It’s Captain Kirk!” a young boy shouted when the transport was complete. The crowd went wild. The senior officers stood resplendent in their satin dress shirts of red, blue, and, green, their golden braids and decorations gleaming in the sun. They were exactly what their adoring fans were expecting. A chant broke out: “Cap-tain Kirk! Cap-tain Kirk! Cap-tain Kirk!”

Jim looked up to see a long banner stretched out along a 2nd story railing that said, “Welcome, heroes! We love you!” All around, people were cheering from windows, waving small blue and white Federation flags or signs bearing Starfleet icons. 

“Can you believe this, Jim?!” Bones said, dazzled.

Jim leaned in. He couldn’t hear the doctor over the din. “What?” he shouted.

McCoy just slapped him on the back and smiled. At the show of friendship between them, the crowd cheered even louder. 

When Bones had first seen Jim in the transporter room, he’d felt concerned. The captain had seemed unsettled, even anxious, but whatever it was, the adulation of the Denevan people apparently was the cure. Jim was smiling broadly now in the bright Denevan sunlight and there was a sparkle in his eyes. 

Despite the excitement of the crowd, Denevans were a well-behaved, civic-minded people. No physical barriers were necessary to maintain the officers’ personal space. People were inching closer to get a better look at them, while still maintaining a respectful distance.

The mayor and another tall man approached for the official greeting. Even _they_ looked a bit starstruck. The mayor raised his hand in a silencing gesture and amazingly, the large crowd quieted. 

“Captain, you and your officers need no introduction. I am Mayor Endicott and this is Governor Coffman. On behalf of a grateful colony, we welcome you back to Deneva!”

Hands were shaken and cameras captured the scene for the rest of the population at home. The senior officers joined their junior staff and the group of eight was escorted across the red carpet in a slow procession. 

Spock watched Kirk’s reactions. The captain’s face was beaming from all the love the crowd was showing him. Jim seemed surprised. Spock wasn’t. He had read many articles which described the Denevans’ intense emotions regarding their liberators. Spock knew all too well the excruciating pain the population had endured. He fully expected their expressions of gratitude to be effusive. The Denevan colony was 97.2% human, after all, and humans needed an outlet for this level of emotion.

Scotty’s face was radiating as much joy as Jim’s. He strode proudly in his kilt with his chin out, showing proper dignity, but when the crowd started a chant of “En-ter-prise, En-ter-prise!” the engineer couldn’t hold himself back from waving to the fans like a pop star. They started cheering harder. Kirk was gratified that his ‘miracle worker’ was enjoying the recognition. Scotty’s team had rigged the satellites that emitted the ultraviolet light, killing the invaders. His contribution was immense. It seemed the crowd realized that. If they didn’t, they would after Kirk’s speech. 

Moved by the moment, Jim threw an arm over Scotty’s shoulders, and his friend smiled warmly at him. The display of camaraderie brought out even more exuberance from the crowd.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Jim shouted into Scotty’s ear.

“Aye! It sure is!” Scotty shouted back.

Seeing the captain being casual and approving of Scotty waving to the crowd, the junior officers started doing it. With each new officer who joined in waving, the crowd turned it up a notch. Soon even Spock and McCoy were returning the citizens’ affection.

By that evening, there would be new iconic photos of the Enterprise crew to fuel the Denevans’ hero worship. Smiling images of their saviors, legends come to life.

***

“Uncle Jim, come watch! The news is starting,” Peter called. “We’ve got a bigger screen in _this_ room!”

Peter and his guardians, the Nelsons, had watched the day’s exciting events live from their home, like most suburban Denevans, but Peter was looking forward to a news special that had promised a recap with some different camera angles.

The Nelsons and their son, Derek, followed Jim into the den and they settled in on comfortable couches to re-watch the events of the day with the guest of honor himself.

“Dinner was delicious. Thank you,” Jim told his hosts.

“Oh, you are very welcome, Captain. I’m glad you enjoyed it after your big day,” Mrs. Nelson replied. She had been trying very hard not to act starstruck at having such a renowned celebrity in her home, and it was getting a little easier. James Kirk was simply a gracious, charming person who put everyone at ease. 

“There you are, Uncle Jim!” Peter shouted, pointing at the screen.

Kirk couldn’t help but smile at the images of their reception. It had been a terrific day. Normally, he would have grown tired of fussing and fawning, but the Denevans’ love seemed so warm and genuine. Basking in it with his dear friends had felt exhilarating. 

“Your speech was very informative,” Mr. Nelson said.

“…and moving,” his wife added. “You could really feel your connection to your officers, your pride in their abilities.”

Jim smiled. He was glad that came through.

The parade was on the screen now. Metallic pom poms were shaking in the crowd as their open-air hover cars moved slowly above Main Street. 

“ _Kids_ did a lot of the decorating for the parade,” Peter mentioned.

“Yeah, we got to be outta school all day yesterday!” Derek added. 

Jim smiled. “Well you did a very professional job.” 

It had been beautiful. Deneva City was very clean and well-designed. Sam’s family had lived there. Now Peter lived in the suburbs with his guardians.

“Do you miss living in the city?” Jim asked. 

“Nah,” Peter answered. “I always used to love when my parents brought me out to visit the Nelsons on weekends, and now I get to live here! Wait ‘til you see this place in the daylight, Uncle Jim. It’s really pretty.”

On the news, their open-topped hover car was passing a majestic statue of the colony’s founder, Marjorie Hidalgo.

“Soon _you’ll_ have a statue like that!” Peter said.

Jim chuckled awkwardly. The idea made him uncomfortable. 

Mr. Nelson said, “I know the sculptor they chose for the project, Mike Felsing. He’s very talented. He did some statues on the Iverson building... there.” He pointed to the screen.

“They’re kinda like gargoyles, but friendly-looking,” Derek laughed. 

“Like big pigeons,” Peter added.

Jim’s eyes widened.

“Don’t worry, Captain. He does _people_ , too,” Mrs. Nelson reassured.

“Look, look! Lindy’s teacher is greeting Mr. Spock!” Derek shouted.

Jim knew Lindy was Peter’s girlfriend. He hadn’t met her yet.

“That was Lindy’s teacher?” he asked.

“Yep! Mrs. Berringer. She teaches Vulcan Lit and can speak it really well.”

That was a nice moment. Jim watched again on the screen as the red-haired lady raised her hand in the ta’al salute to Spock as he passed by and shouted some Vulcan words that Jim assumed were “Peace and long life.” Spock returned the greeting in Vulcan and the lady smiled, pleased at the interaction. The newscaster was showing this moment in a still photo, saying it was sure to become an iconic image.

“I’ve never seen Mrs. Berringer be that bold before. She really wanted to greet Mr. Spock. I’m glad he noticed her,” Peter said.

“So am I,” Jim said. He gazed at his dignified first officer holding up the ta’al, his sleek black hair and blue dress uniform shimmering in the sun. They’d had a good day. Jim thought for a moment about Gol. Would Spock really go? He wanted to talk to him more about it.

“What was the aerial tour like?” Peter asked, as the news showed the four senior officers boarding the shuttle. “Did you see the cliffs?”

  
“We did,” Jim said. “Now I understand your flag.”

The four Denevans laughed.

The Denevan flag, a field of blue and green behind a white cliff, hung all around the city with the Federation flags and United Earth flags. A white cliff was chosen as the colony’s emblem because of the unique geology of the continent. The white lithified bedrock was so resistant to erosion that there were no sand beaches at all. The continent stood like a large island 70-100 feet above sea level. There were bays, outcroppings, and scenic features, beautiful from the air or cliffside, but no beaches at all. Jim had once heard a saying to describe a difficult problem: “It’s like finding sand on Deneva.” Now he knew what that meant. 

There was an alluvial plain and fertile farmland south of the city, which was a lovely sight from the air, a green patchwork of circles and squares much like he’d known in Iowa. Governor Coffman, their host for the tour, had come from farmer parents like Kirk’s and was clearly proud of it. He wanted to show him modern Denevan farming practices, but Jim had promised his evening to Peter, so he had to decline. 

It was cozy sitting here in their den, getting reacquainted with Peter and meeting his new family. He seemed happy and well cared for. The guest room had been readied for Jim, and Peter was excited he was staying the night. His girlfriend, Lindy, was coming in the morning for breakfast to meet him. They’d all have the morning to visit before the neighborhood picnic that was planned for 11:30. 

The family was engrossed in the news coverage of his visit, almost to the point of preferring it to the real him. He smiled. It was surreal watching himself on their large screen. Scotty in his kilt was a big hit and Uhura and Martha accepting that spontaneous gift of flowers from those little girls was an adorable moment. Even the usually grumpy Dr. McCoy seemed happy. 

When the news ended, Peter brought out a box of old pictures of Sam and Jim when they were boys. “Dad had these and I love looking at them,” he said. “Maybe there are some you haven’t seen in awhile.”

The rest of the family made themselves scarce so Peter and Jim could enjoy the memories together. They told stories, laughed, took a break for some ice cream, and talked about Peter’s school and his girlfriend. At almost 16, he was already taller than Jim and had a deep voice and a commanding vocabulary. Not much remained of the little boy Jim remembered, but he was proud of the way his nephew was maturing. 

Jim knew he was a good student.

“What are your favorite subjects?” Kirk asked.

“I like Xenobiology and Earth History. I have a research paper due next week on the American Information Age.”

“Good stuff. I like history, too, and geography. Your dad and I used to enjoy making maps.”

“Maps?” Peter said. “But everything’s already charted on Earth.”

“Well, it’s good practice for when you go places that _aren’t_ charted,” Jim said.

“Oh. I guess _you_ would know about that!” Peter said. “That’s your whole job now. Going places that aren’t charted.”

“Stellar Cartography never interested me much,” Jim said, “but I used to think I’d like to explore alien landscapes and be the first one to map out a new planet’s forests and rivers, like Lewis and Clark.”

“Dad said you did that for fun on Tarsus IV, before… you know.” Peter looked down. He was thinking maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned that. 

“I didn’t think you knew about Tarsus,” Jim said. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing anyone would tell a child. He tried to picture his brother doing it.

“Dad had a lot of guilt about it.”

“Guilt? Why?”

“He said he got really hung up on Mom when they started dating and wasn’t there for you anymore. He thought that’s why you went to Tarsus with Mark’s parents.”

Mark Bell was his best friend growing up. Mark's folks were agriculturalists, tasked with the challenge of helping the Tarsus colony get a foothold their first year. Going with them for a whole year seemed like an amazing adventure when Jim was 14 and had never been further from home than the Martian Colonies on a school field trip.

“No, no. It had nothing to do with your dad. I just wanted adventure,” Jim explained. “It was really fun and exciting for awhile, too, until… things went wrong.”

“Do you still think about it?” Peter asked.

“Not very often, no, but I did yesterday,” Jim remembered.

“Why’d you think of it yesterday?”

“I was considering the career plans of one of my junior officers, who survived Tarsus, also… and then, I thought about it again while reading a book about people starving,” Jim remembered.

“On Tarsus?”

“No, it was _The Chronicles of Commander Spirek…”_

“Oh, Lindy just read that. She told me about it. Her teacher, Mrs. Berringer, had a new version that she was all excited about.”

“I’ll bet it was _Spock’s_. His translation is really gripping.”

“It’s so sad the way it ends. That crew tried sooo hard, but it wasn’t enough,” Peter said.

“Sometimes you give it everything you’ve got and it’s not enough. That’s life. Death is part of it.”

“Yeah,” Peter said soberly. He had experienced that first hand. “Sometimes I wish I could control my emotions as well as Vulcans can.”

“That would be handy, wouldn’t it?” Jim agreed with a wry smile. Peter seemed to realize Vulcans _had_ emotions, just suppressed them. “Do you know any Vulcans?”

“Just one: Tegren. He’s my age, but goes to a different school.” 

“He?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Oh, I just thought Vulcan names beginning with ‘T’ were for females,” Jim said.

“Ha. I’m gonna tell him you said that!” Peter snickered.

“Please don’t,” Jim said with a hint of warning.

“Haha, I‘m just kidding. I wouldn’t,” he promised. “I don’t really know him well enough to tease him. I wish I did. I’ve tried to be friendly and speak to him when I see him at competitions and events sometimes, but it’s kinda hard, ya know? Vulcans are tough to get to know.”

“It’s worth it, though,” Jim said.

“You consider Mr. Spock your friend, don’t you?” Peter asked.

“He’s my _best_ friend,” Jim replied.

“You just can’t slap him on the back or put your arm around him like you can with your other friends.”

“No, I don’t do that in public with Spock.”

“In private?”

“On occasion,” Jim said, thinking of holding Spock on the beach, listening to his friend’s heartbeat.

“Vulcans don’t like to be touched,” Peter said. “At least that’s what they teach us… especially their hands. Is that what Mr. Spock is like?”

“Yes, for the most part,” Jim said. “We spar together in the gym to keep in shape. Hand-to-hand combat is required training at the Academy, so Spock is accustomed to that.”

“Tegren doesn’t do any sports. Vulcans are so strong and coordinated, so I always thought that was weird, because he’d be great at sports probably.”

“Touching others can be disruptive to touch-telepaths, Spock has told me, because of the emotions they may sense.”

Peter nodded.

“Spock’s mental disciplines are very strong. He can touch someone and not be affected by their thoughts. He calls it ‘shielding.’ Tegren may not have developed those skills yet at 15.”

“I guess his parents are teaching him. You don’t learn that at school, at least not _here_. I bet he wishes he could go to school on Vulcan.”

“Does he have any siblings?”

“He has two sisters: 22 and 29. They both left for Vulcan when they grew up.”

“Sounds like he needs a friend. Keep trying. He may not say so, but I bet he’ll appreciate it. Vulcans can be very tough on themselves. Just admitting to _wanting_ a friend may be hard for him.”

“How do you know Mr. Spock is your friend?”

“How do I know?” Jim asked. “Well, for one thing, he’s saved my life half a dozen times.”

“He cares about you for _you_? Not just because you’re his captain and it’s his duty to protect you? If he doesn’t show his emotions, how can you tell?” Peter asked.

“I just know,” Jim said, deciding that would have to be enough for his inquisitive nephew. 

“Then, you’re gonna stay friends after the five-year mission?”

“Sure.” Jim realized as he said it just how _un_ sure he felt. Spock might be going home to Vulcan. Then what? He had no idea.

“That’s good. I thought you were probably better friends with your chief medical officer or chief engineer because you _look_ chummier with them.”

“Well, looks can be deceiving… although I _am_ close with McCoy and Scotty, too,” Jim said. “Don’t give up on Tegren. Some of the best friendships can be the most hard-won.”

Peter nodded his head like he was really thinking about that. “I bet you’re right, Uncle Jim. It’s ridiculously easy usually for me to make friends, because I’m the nephew of the Hero of Deneva. Tegren doesn’t act like he’s impressed at all by that.”

“Well, then, if you two become friends, you’ll know he likes you for you, won’t you?” Jim pointed out.

Peter smiled.

They fell back into looking at old pictures and chatting about Lindy, school, and family. Peter was curious and asked about some of his missions. Jim shared what he could, and told him some stories about his dad and his grandparents that seemed to delight the boy. 

Eventually, though, Peter started yawning and had to admit he was beat. It was late and the rest of the family had gone to bed. Jim tried to start a new topic to keep the conversation going a little longer, but Peter wanted to turn in.

“It’s been great catching up, Uncle Jim. I hope you enjoy the picnic tomorrow. Our neighbors are really excited to meet you.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” Jim said.

“Breakfast is at 7:00 and Lindy is coming over. You’re gonna love her,” Peter said as he walked Jim to the guest room. “Mom put a toothbrush and a robe in there for you. Is there anything else you need?”

“No. I’ll be fine. I’m sure I’ll be asleep before my head hits the pillow,” Jim lied. 

“See you in the morning,” Peter whispered as he headed up the stairs to his room.

Jim closed the door of the guest room and switched on the light. It was a pleasant space with a comfortable-looking bed and small bookcase. 

It was quiet. 

He wished he could have kept talking to Peter. What a kick it was seeing him nearly grown, hearing that deep voice coming out of his mouth. He couldn’t help but think of his own son. Carol had named him David. He was almost exactly the same age as Peter, but the cousins had never met, didn’t even know about each other. Sadness welled in Jim over that. There would never be a box of pictures with David and Peter climbing trees or wrestling or swimming together on summer vacations. 

It couldn’t be helped. Carol wanted David all to herself from the moment he was born. She’d asked Jim to stay away, and at the time, it had been a relief. After months of believing he’d thrown his career away, stupidly clipped his own wings, he was suddenly free. It was such a welcome surprise when Carol “sent him packing,” as Bones called it. Guilt descended as he remembered those feelings. 

_My son. My life that could have been..._

But now the time had gotten away from him. He wondered if David still had those blond curls that made him look so much like his mother. Carol hadn’t sent any pictures since he was ten, and he would have changed so much in six years, just like Peter. 

_In two years, he’ll be an adult_. Jim wondered if Carol had married, if David had a solid father-figure in his life the way Peter had Mr. Nelson. It shook him suddenly that he didn’t know. He hadn’t looked out for David at all, happily trusting everything to Carol. What if the boy had needed advice on girls, or school, or how to make a Vulcan friend? He thought of his own dad and how important he’d been in his early life. Sorrow flooded him over the precious father-son relationship he had forfeited. 

_I abandoned him, completely abandoned him. David, forgive me._

He didn’t think about David very often. Bones knew about him, but Spock didn’t… at least Kirk didn’t _think_ he did. There wasn’t much that his shrewd first officer didn’t know, however, so perhaps he was wrong. 

_What would Spock think of me, leaving my son to grow up without a father?_

_Spock._ Jim wondered what he was doing right now? His friends had made him so proud today. Jim decided to just think about _that_ , what a terrific day they’d had, how it felt to be associated with such splendid people. He couldn’t help but wish his brother could be alive to meet them. With a painful flash, the image popped into his head of Sam lying lifeless on the floor three years ago.

“Is this your brother?” Bones had asked.

Jim came over to identify him. “Yes. That is my brother… _was_ my brother.”

He’d only spent a moment looking at his brother’s inanimate face. He would never see Sam’s face again. Why hadn’t he looked at it longer?

_Sam._

If only he’d gotten to Deneva a few hours earlier. They’d responded to the crisis at warp 8. Why hadn’t he ordered warp 9? Maybe he could have saved Sam, if only he’d been a few minutes earlier… and Aurelan. He pushed Aurelan for information so hard in Sickbay, to the point that fighting the creature’s influence made her scream in pain and die. He should have just had McCoy give her more sedation; she was in so much pain. 

He saw her contorted face in his mind. _So much pain…_ _but I wouldn’t leave her alone, let her rest._ He wondered what Peter would say if he knew this. 

On impulse, he sneaked quietly back to the den and brought the box of old pictures to his room. He wanted to see Sam alive again. He propped himself up on the bed and sat the box on his lap. It was an attractive Christmas tin. Sam had _cared_ about these pictures and taken care of them. _He loved me,_ Jim thought, _and I let him down._

He looked through the pictures again. There was one of him at 14, emaciated and traumatized, just home from Tarsus IV and trying to smile. Sam’s arm was around his shoulder. 

_Aurelan took that picture,_ Jim remembered. They’d been engaged then, and both of them were so kind to him after that tragedy. The news was focusing on the 4,000 colonists who were murdered by Kodos ‘the Executioner’ as they were calling him, but many of the survivors had been reduced to walking skeletons. Some hadn’t made it. Jim had. His father and brother were both 6’1”. He only made it to 5’11” and blamed the Tarsus famine for it. He was on vitamin and nutrient supports for a year.

Jim recalled his aerial tour today and the productive Denevan farmlands that Governor Coffman was so proud of. 

_One blight and it’s all gone, the whole colony wiped out,_ Jim thought. Life was so fragile. Leadership could go so wrong. What would the jovial Governor Coffman do were he faced with a disastrous food shortage like the one that devastated the Tarsus IV colony? 

In his mind Jim imagined Deneva City destroyed by looters, starving people scattering across the continent killing animals and each other to live, no help in sight. He remembered what he himself had almost been forced to do to the population of Deneva. He’d been prepared to kill a million people, if he couldn’t find another way to stop the progression of those creatures from planet to planet. 

Governor Kodos only killed 4,000. What would James T. Kirk be known as, if he’d been compelled to kill everyone on Deneva to stop the spread? Kirk the Executioner?

_Stop thinking about this._ He didn’t understand why he was having such difficulty quelling the dark thoughts that ran amok in his mind when it was quiet and he was alone. _It’s been a wonderful day. Just go to bed,_ he told himself. 

He closed the tin of pictures and changed into the dark green robe in the closet. It was soft, but not soothing. He kept imagining it was Sam’s. It _could_ be. What had happened to all of Sam’s clothes? What do you do with a dead man’s clothes? On the Enterprise, a yeoman always cleaned out the quarters of crewmen who had died. 

_How did they do it?_ Jim suddenly wondered. Did they send the civilian clothes to the families and recycle the uniforms to other crewmen who were the same size? How did that work? Why didn’t he know? His exec would know; Spock knew everything about ship’s ops.

Kirk felt a sudden desire to be with Spock. He hadn’t been able to touch him all day, except for a brief moment at the luncheon reception. Cameras were everywhere and he couldn’t risk embarrassing Spock. He hoped it hadn’t appeared to the crowds that he was fonder of McCoy and Scotty because he touched them more. Spock was dearest of all, but he knew better than to display it. His brilliant Vulcan. His unrequited love. _Spock_. 

Spock had been the _real_ hero of Deneva, working through that searing pain, collecting samples, and volunteering as a test subject. Then, McCoy had solved the puzzle of killing the creatures without harming the human hosts, and Scotty had rigged up the satellites to emit the UV light. His three officers were the heroes of Deneva. They were the ones who had saved the population. 

What had _he_ done? Made a series of bad decisions that got them there too late to save Sam, cost Aurelan her life, and nearly blinded Spock permanently. It was only dumb luck that had saved his friend’s eyesight, a fluke of Vulcan anatomy. His foolish command decision to let his first officer be used that way could have ended Spock’s career. What was he thinking letting him risk himself like that? Jim remembered what it felt like when he first realized Spock was blind, like his right arm had been cut off... and the guilt. The crushing guilt! It rushed through him again now. 

_I need to get to Spock. I need to see him,_ Jim thought in a near panic. He couldn’t stand to be alone with his thoughts another moment. Throwing off the robe, he dressed quickly and called for a beam-up. He tucked the tin under his arm at the last minute, thinking that would make a suitable reason to go to Spock’s quarters… to show him some old pictures.

When he arrived, he dashed off the transporter pad and past the technician with barely a word. He was at Spock’s door in 30 seconds, but no one answered. He stood there pressing the button over and over. A passing ensign from Life Sciences saw him and said, “Captain, I just saw Mr. Spock in Dr. McCoy’s office.”

“Oh. Thank you,” Kirk said, trying to appear calm and collected. 

“I watched the parade in Rec Room 4, Sir. It looked like a fitting tribute,” the ensign said.

“It was something, all right,” Kirk replied. 

Jim was starting to feel better being back on his ship in the busy corridors. It was daytime here and the activity level felt good to him. He suddenly realized he was still wearing his ‘parade clothes.’ He tugged at the collar.

“This thing’s starting to strangle me. Think I’ll go change.” Kirk tried to smile and act his usual self. The ensign didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. 

Jim headed to his cabin. He’d just change quickly into a different shirt, then go check in with Spock and Bones. He set the tin of pictures on his desk when he arrived and turned the lights all the way up. He selected his most comfortable uniform: the green v-neck, and took a moment to brush his teeth, because he thought it might make him feel more himself, but seeing his face in the mirror unsettled him. He saw Sam’s face. 

_I’m the same age now that Sam was when he died, 37._ He pictured his face with a mustache. They looked so much alike. His only brother. _Sam, I miss you._

Kirk went back to the box of pictures on his desk and found one of Sam and Aurelan’s wedding. Jim was there, standing up with his brother. There was meat on his bones by that time, and at 16, he looked nearly a man. He touched Sam and Aurelan’s faces in the picture. They were so in love. The bride had danced with her young brother-in-law at the reception and everyone had cheered. Jim was happy to be getting a sister. He’d danced with a lot of girls that evening. 

He sighed as he thought of all of the girls and women he had known since then. Where were they all now, with their softness and kind words when he needed someone to hold? 

“I want you dead. I want you dead!” Janice Lester’s biting words jumped into his head. 

He’d once thought she would be his Aurelan. She was a loving girlfriend during his 3rd year at the Academy, fun and smart. Her blocked ambitions twisted her heart, though. She became spiteful and jealous of his accomplishments. Instead of sharing in his successes, Janice grew bitter until it hurt too much to stay with her. 

He’d taken up with Carol Marcus after that, but she didn’t love him, didn’t want him, even after having his baby. 

_My son._

Suddenly, he wanted a family like his brother had. If he were surrounded by a loving family, he would never be alone, never feel empty and desolate like he did now. It was too late with Carol and David, but he could choose someone else, start a new family. Yes, that was the answer. 

_No. Spock. I love Spock._

He shook his head to clear it. His thoughts were such a jumble. He frowned and chided himself for holding onto hope that anything could ever happen with Spock. He was a loyal first officer and a friend, but he simply didn’t feel that way about Jim. His mating cycle was what it was. Spock didn’t desire an intimate relationship with his captain. He was a Vulcan and he was going to leave once the 5-year mission ended, go off to Gol to elevate his mind for who knew how long? Spock would be gone; Kirk’s right arm would be cut off.

_He probably NEEDS to go to that retreat just to cleanse himself of my influence, the constant imposition of my emotions,_ Jim thought _. I rely on him too much. I can’t keep leaning on him like that._

What was he without Spock? Perhaps nothing. His heart was racing with anxiety and it felt like loneliness was swallowing him, but he resolved not to go to Spock. He was with McCoy, so Jim couldn’t go to Sickbay either…

_Helen._

She was a psychologist and would be discrete. He could talk to her in her office. 

_Yes, Helen._

She probably wouldn’t even tell McCoy, if he charmed her and asked her not to. He could do that.

He left his quarters and headed for her office, hopeful she would know what to do. He would bare his soul to her and tell her everything he’d been feeling. Dr. Noel was a good clinician. She would be professional and compassionate, like she was in the weeks after Tantalus. Helen could be brash and flirty with him sometimes, but she was very kind… and beautiful, a dainty brunette like his sister-in-law. He focused his mind on getting to her as quickly as he could. 

_Helen._

***

“Captain,” the psychologist said when she opened her office door. Her eyes narrowed. He looked strange to her somehow. “What do you need, Sir?”

Need. He was dripping with need, saturated with it, drowning. _Oh, Helen. I need you. Please help me,_ his tortured mind cried out.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Of course,” she backed up so he could step inside and the door whooshed shut behind him. They were alone.

“It was good to see you in the galley yesterday,” she said. “It’s been a couple of weeks.”

“Too long,” Jim said.

She wasn’t sure if she was seeing in his eyes what she thought she was seeing, but her pulse quickened just having her handsome captain in her office. 

“So, is the parade over? How was it?” she asked, to have something to say until he made his intentions clear.

“Helen,” Jim whispered, stepping close to her. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and bent slowly to kiss her. She let him. 

His kiss was slow and sweet, then more passionate. His tongue coaxed her mouth open and his hands left her face to roam over her body. When he pulled her tightly to him and groaned, there was no more question what his intentions were.

_This is finally going to happen!!_ she realized, as her blood started racing. She had hoped to quench this crush for so long. It was looking like this was going to be the day.

Jim kissed her deeply, sucking at her lower lip, then pulled back and gazed into her beautiful brown eyes. _The woman I love,_ he thought fervently, desperate to have her.

“Oh, Helen! I’ve loved you for years. For years, Helen,” he whispered in earnest. “I’d do anything for you.”

_Oh, yummy! We’re going to role play Tantalus!_ she thought with excitement.

“Captain, my captain. Sweep me off my feet and make secret, forbidden love to me like you did after the Christmas party,” Helen play-acted in her sultriest, most dramatic purr.

Jim instantly took her invitation. He picked her up, wedding night style, and carried her through the inner door to her private quarters. He let her down next to her bed. They couldn’t get their clothes off quickly enough. 

He turned back her bed coverings and switched off the light.

“Oh, no you don’t. If this is finally happening, I want to _see_ you, you gorgeous thing,” Helen said playfully. She flipped the light back on and pulled off his underwear. He was ready to go. She gasped with the pleasure of knowing that she was about to have the glorious Captain Kirk.

He pulled her into his arms again, his erection trapped tightly between them.

“Ohhh,” she moaned. “Why now?” 

“I’ve loved you for years, Helen. For years….” She smiled into his smooth chest and rolled her eyes, but he didn’t see her.

His embrace definitely did feel like he loved her. _Ah, he is so gentle._ He laid her down on the bed and started kissing her breasts, then her mouth again. He slid his fingers down to see if she was wet enough yet. She was and moaned at his touch. 

He climbed on top of her, then seemed to hesitate.

“Oh. I’m sterile,” she said. “Babies aren’t for me, so don’t worry. It’s safe.” 

She had taken his hesitation for that last-minute fear so many men display when their big heads seize enough control over their little heads to ask, ‘Hey, am I about to ruin my life?’

She pulled him down on top of her and rolled her naked hips up toward him.

“Ohhh,” he groaned. “Helen.” How he wanted Helen, wanted her now and forever.

She didn’t want babies? That couldn’t be right. They were going to get married, have lots of children. He would have love all around him all the time and he would never be lonely… never again lonely. _Oh, Helen, I will give you lots of babies and then you’ll never leave me. Never, ever leave me._

He pushed inside her. She wrapped her legs around him and rolled them onto their sides. He was deep and that felt good, but the best part was how their pubic bones were grinding against each other.

_God! That’s good,_ she thought. _Soooo good._

He held her in his arms tightly, trying to go deeper, deeper. _Helen_. Finally, she convulsed and he allowed himself to come, too.

He kept holding her close, until she extricated herself to cool off. He slipped out. She was still lying beside him, catching her breath, but he felt separate again, alone.

“Wow, Jim, that was fantastic… Do you want to shower?”

“Just lie here with me,” he said, trying to snuggle back up to her and pull the covers over them.

A cozy nest was not what Helen had in mind, though. “Jim… um… Marlena will be getting off shift in 20 minutes, so…”

“Marlena?” Jim asked, confused.

“She and I are together now, remember?”

Jim’s forehead wrinkled. Lt. Marlena Moreau. Yes, he did remember. He’d signed off on the forms a few months ago. He knew they were a couple. How could he have forgotten that? _Why did Helen…?_

“Then, why did you…? W-we shouldn’t have…” Jim began.

“It’s fine. I had ‘permission,’” she said with a coy glint in her eye. “Marlena knows I have a little crush on you and we agreed that if I ever had the opportunity, I should go for it, scratch the itch, you know. But…” She looked at him with eyebrows raised, hoping he’d fill in the rest by himself, but he just kept lying there, pulling the covers up higher. She was going to have to say it. 

“So… you know… it’s one thing to have her blessing on it, but it’s another to let her… _see_ it. This probably wasn’t the best timing for this. I mean I had a good time, but if you don’t mind too much, could you…?” She glanced toward the door.

His mind was trying to process what she was saying. He loved Helen. They were going to get married and make a family. He was never going to be alone again. _Helen, Helen!_

Her back was turned and she was already heading for the shower, her beautiful naked hourglass form walking away from him, three tendrils from her ruined updo falling loosely down her back.

“Whoa, that feels weird,” she said, “having man-goo leaking outta me. I haven’t had _that_ sensation for awhile. Kinda stings, if I’m honest.” She laughed. When she heard Jim gathering his clothes, she turned back over her shoulder and saw tears in his eyes.

“Oh, darling!” She came rushing back. “I’m being so rude. Do you need to cuddle for a couple of minutes? We have time for that. Oh, I’m sorry.”

Jim shook his head. To his disgrace he couldn’t keep the tears from flowing, but he kept dressing despite her solicitous fussing. Then, he pushed past her and slipped out.

Although the corridors were bright and busy, no one saw him leave Helen’s office. He wiped at his eyes and forced his emotions under control. Why was he acting like she’d just broken his heart? He wasn’t in love with her. They had never dated. Being in love with her was just something Dr. Adams’ wicked mind had created. It was their little joke. Why had he taken it so seriously just now? 

Jim had no idea, but he had definitely felt like he loved her desperately just moments ago. What a cad he was, having casual sex with someone else’s girlfriend. He hadn’t slept with anyone in months; why did he choose Helen? It didn’t really feel like he _had_ chosen. He’d been compelled somehow by a force he didn’t understand. 

As he nodded cordially to crewmen he passed in the halls, Kirk tried to act normal while he worked it out in his mind. He had just slept with Dr. Helen Noel. Part of him couldn’t believe that had actually happened. This strange emptiness that had been seizing him when he was alone suddenly seemed like something that could hurt him; if it could impair his judgment that badly, it was dangerous and he needed help. 

That’s what he had gone to Dr. Noel for: psychiatric help. Why had the belief that he loved her suddenly gripped his mind? He felt as brainwashed as he had been after Dr. Adams first placed that love for Helen in his tortured mind.

_Bones, I need Bones._

Jim headed toward Sickbay, but as he rehearsed various ways to explain to McCoy what had happened and how he’d been feeling, it all sounded so ridiculous. He shook his head.

_Helen’s beautiful and I haven’t ‘gotten any’ in a long time. That’s all,_ Jim tried to convince himself. _She flirted with me earlier and I sprang at her like the womanizer I am. She enjoyed it. Everything is fine._

And indeed everything did seem fine… now.

He passed a boisterous group of off-duty young men from various departments. They were discussing water polo and heading to the pool. 

“Captain,” they chorused as he strode by. One of them was Lt. Kevin Riley.

On impulse Jim spun on his heel and caught up to them. “Going for a game?” he asked.

The new pool was a hot spot these days. Kirk often enjoyed swimming laps alone, but a team sport sounded good to him right now.

“Yes, Sir,” Riley answered. 

“Mind if I join you?”

“Sure, Captain.” They all looked surprised but not displeased.

“Terrific.” Jim clapped two of them on the shoulders and joined the pack. He felt good again. Helen would be fine. She had Lt. Moreau and she admitted she’d only been “scratching an itch.” She would probably forget their little indiscretion in a day or two. No need to ever talk about it again.

***

“Leonard, I need to talk to you right away.”

“Helen, come in,” McCoy said warmly.

Dr. Noel was surprised to see Mr. Spock in Sickbay, coordinating some science reports with the doctor.

“Uh, M-Mr. Spock,” she greeted awkwardly. 

There were rumors that he and the captain were lovers. She had never given them much credence, but in this situation, the possibility gave her pause.

“What is it, Helen?” McCoy asked, noticing she wasn’t her usual, smiling self.

“It’s about the captain, Len. Can we… um… speak privately?”

“Well, if it’s about the captain, Spock should know,” Bones said.

She wasn’t sure whether he meant because Spock was the F/O or for a _different_ reason, but asked again: “Please, Doctor, I need to confer with you privately.”

“Well, sure, sure. Come on in here then. I’ll be back in a bit, Spock.” He guided her into Lab 1, leaving a very curious Spock in his office. 

Bones wasn’t sure if Dr. Noel just didn’t realize how sensitive Vulcan hearing was or if she secretly wanted him to know, but she didn’t whisper. She related the whole situation to McCoy.

“I tell you, he was crying. _You_ didn’t see his face, Len. He seemed crushed, heartbroken. He kept telling me he’d loved me for years.”

“Well, that’s just the little joke you two have,” McCoy protested.

“Exactly! That’s why I didn’t think anything of it,” Helen explained. “I thought he was just playing, but now I think he really believed it or something.” 

Bones frowned. “Down on the planet tomorrow, he’s going to be laying a wreath at his brother’s grave… with cameras and press all there. It’s got to be hard on him, this visit,” he confided to her.

“Oh, no! I didn’t realize that. He really needed someone and I was so… ugh, I feel terrible!” 

“You didn’t know, Helen,” McCoy forgave. “Maybe that’s not even part of it. Who knows? Jim is… very complicated.”

She sighed, “I thought he would appreciate me keeping everything light, but now I feel really callous.” She frowned. “Something was just off. He was charming, like always, but there was a desperation about him. He wasn’t himself. He didn’t even seem to remember about Marlena until I mentioned her.”

“Hm,” Bones said. He wasn’t sure how to handle this, but Dr. Noel was clearly concerned and wanted him to do something. Why was Jim even onboard anyway? He said he was spending the Denevan night at his nephew’s.

“He walked right out into the corridor still crying. The captain would _never_ do that, Len, in a normal, healthy state of mind,” she insisted. “The crew’s respect and confidence are too important to him.”

McCoy agreed about that. 

“Something’s wrong. You should go find him, or Mr. Spock should. Trust me, he needs a friend right now.”

McCoy nodded and opened his office door. Spock was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

“You serve like a Laurentian flailfish, Benson!” Lt. Riley taunted the other team. 

The captain smiled merrily. Riley was very competitive and Jim loved it. The water was churning with their activity. These men played hard.

Since the captain was playing, a crowd had gathered at the edge of the pool to watch. Jim rarely played polo and his skills weren’t the best, but he had a natural athleticism and was playing with such gusto that it didn’t show.

“In your face, Garrovick!” a member of Kirk’s team shouted when the ensign failed to stay in bounds reaching for the ball. They had some very exciting volleys going and the crowd was getting really into it. 

For a moment, Kirk thought he glimpsed Spock’s pointed ears through the crowd, but decided he must be mistaken. He hadn’t seen Spock in the pool area since the inaugural opening. Scotty didn’t often use the pool either. The engineering challenge had been Mr. Scott’s favorite part. He was proud that he’d been able to make this happen for his crew after his old friend from the Academy had given him the idea. 

Commander MacCall was designing the new Excelsior Class starships, and when he mentioned to Scotty they were going to have swimming pools, Mr. Scott had said, “I can do that!” Five months later and Kirk was cutting the ribbon! The handball courts had been sacrificed, but everyone was tired of handball anyway. Water polo was the hot new thing.

_That WAS Spock!_ Jim was sure that he glimpsed him this time as the crowd parted a bit. What was Spock doing down here? It made him wonder if something was wrong with the ship and Spock was looking for him. He’d left his communicator in a locker and he doubted he would hear the ship’s PA system with all this noise. Spock wasn’t trying to make his way over to him, though, so Jim decided not to be concerned. 

_Maybe Spock is just enjoying watching me._ He liked that idea and started playing with even more enthusiasm.

Spock didn’t know what to make of the situation. His captain certainly didn’t look like a man who’d just been crying from a supposedly broken heart. The first officer had decided to stay and observe. That was always the best way to form hypotheses. 

He believed Dr. Noel’s story. He, himself, had questioned the captain’s emotional stability four times in the past two days. Not aloud to anyone else, of course, but he was thinking perhaps it was time to discuss his concerns with Dr. McCoy. Thus far, observation had not yielded any answers. If he were able to, he would talk to Kirk directly when the match concluded. 

Eventually, the game petered out as people got tired and headed for the showers. Kirk tried to coax some onlookers into the pool to keep the game going, but everyone had an excuse like, “I’ve got a shift in ten minutes” or “I just wore myself out sparring.”

Soon, Jim was the only one left in the pool. He unhooked the net and let the automatic spooler wind it up and out of the way. _I’ll do some laps alone, I guess,_ he decided. The feeling of loneliness was just beginning to grow again when he spotted Spock walking toward him… in a swimsuit! He couldn’t recall ever seeing his first officer in swim attire before. The gym’s swimwear, like the sparring clothes, were solid red, arranged by size in freshly-laundered stacks for whomever needed them.

“May I join you, Captain?” he asked.

“Of course!” Jim welcomed. He was always glad for Spock’s company. “We had a good game of polo going for a while, but they all ran away from me.”

Spock grabbed the chrome ladder and climbed backwards into the pool, moving along the wall a few feet until he reached Jim’s position.

“You are their commanding officer. It is only natural for some to feel… inhibited when pursuing leisure activities in your presence.”

“Is it? I’m _your_ commanding officer. Are _you_ uncomfortable spending leisure time with me?” Jim probed. He thought he knew the answer but the past two days had left him uncertain.

“I am… familiar with you,” Spock began, then quickly changed it to, “I am your friend, and as such I enjoy your company.” 

Jim smiled. 

“I am, however, uncomfortable swimming,” he revealed. 

“Oh?”

“Vulcans have a higher muscle and bone density and a lower percentage of body fat than humans, affecting our buoyancy…”

“You’re a sinker,” Jim summarized.

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Crudely put, but essentially accurate.”

“You _can_ swim, though?” Jim asked, remembering he’d never seen Spock swim before… anywhere… ever.

“Yes. Since most Vulcan children have an innate fear of drowning, our youth are encouraged to overcome that early trepidation by becoming proficient swimmers,” Spock explained.

“Hm. Interesting,” Jim said. “So you took lessons as a child?”

“Of a sort. It is not my most pleasant childhood memory.”

“Please don’t tell me Vulcans toss their kids into the water to ‘teach’ them to swim.”

Spock raised one eyebrow. “Very well, Captain. I will not tell you that.”

“My friend Mark’s uncle threw him in our local pond when he was three and he was afraid of that pond until we were eight!” Jim recalled. “Not the best ‘teaching’ method, if you ask me.”

Spock looked like he agreed but said nothing.

The pool wasn’t churning like it had been during the polo game, but there were still some small waves bobbing along the wall. They lapped gently at Spock’s collar bone. Jim enjoyed the sight.

“I swam a lot as a child,” the captain said, just making conversation. “The Iowa summers are hot and muggy. On the border between my family’s property and Mark’s, there is a medium-sized pond, and we had a rope swing tied to an overhanging tree. Sometimes there were lots of kids over to play; sometimes it was just me and Mark… and Sam. Sam was a strong swimmer. I got really fast racing him.”

“I have noted that humans generally swim on the surface. I prefer to swim beneath.”

“I can swim underwater. I wonder which of us can hold his breath longer,” Kirk pondered aloud with a glint in his eye. He was feeling competitive again.

Spock knew that look. Jim was thinking the water was a venue where he might have an advantage.

“Does the water feel cold to you, Spock?” 

“I can control my physiological reactions in a wide range of temperatures.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” Spock admitted.

“We’ll make it quick, then,” Jim said. “To the other side of the pool and back. Touch the wall… like we touched the pier on Lyra 10. Then, whoever touches this wall first wins, okay?”

“Acceptable,” Spock said.

Kirk grinned. This would be fun. He twisted to face away from the wall. Holding the lip with one hand and positioning his feet to press off, he nodded to Spock to do the same.

“Ready, set, GO,” he said. He took a huge breath after GO and sank beneath the water before pushing off hard. He had a sense of Spock at his side, but kept his focus on the wall ahead, kicking and pumping his arms for all he was worth. He reached the wall before Spock and had a flawless turn. Spock’s turn was awkward and he fell behind. When Spock finally reached the starting point, Kirk was already there smiling smugly.

Spock’s grab for the rim of the wall was imprecise and his fingers slipped off. His lack of buoyancy showed as his head slipped beneath the water unexpectedly. He caught some water in his windpipe, causing him to come up choking a bit.

Without thinking, Jim wrapped an arm around his waist and held him up until he could get his hand on the lip of the wall.

“You okay?” he asked before he started gloating.

Spock nodded, but chose not to speak yet as he continued to cough. He had his hand securely on the wall rim now, but noticed Jim still kept his arm around him.

Jim had seen Spock wet before, in the gym showers, but never up close like this. His dark eyelashes and eyebrows sparkled with water droplets under the overhead gym lights and his thick black hair looked even shinier, if that were possible. When he stopped coughing, he looked at Jim with a strange expression. His eyes were deep and his lips looked so different than they had under the pink moon of Lyra. Gray almost. They parted to say something and Jim waited expectantly, but no words came out. He realized Spock was shivering. Then it occurred to him that he shouldn’t know that, because he shouldn’t have his arm around Spock’s waist!

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, releasing him. “I keep touching you, when I know you don’t like it.”

“Your touch is never unwelcome, Jim. You need not apologize for it,” Spock said very gently. 

If Dr. Noel’s account of Jim’s emotional state following their sexual encounter an hour ago was accurate, Spock wanted to be as kind and gentle as possible to his friend. If it comforted Jim to touch him, he would allow it. _I would prefer it to you touching Dr. Noel, Jim._ That thought surprised him in its intensity.

“Let’s get out of the water. You’re freezing,” Kirk said.

“That is hyperbole,” Spock corrected.

“Okay, let’s stay right here and have a nice chat then,” Jim joked. 

Spock gave him a raised eyebrow and headed for the ladder. Jim followed. The Vulcan climbed out and offered Kirk a hand up. He took it.

God! Spock was strong. Why did it always surprise Jim so much? The captain was hoisted up effortlessly and they walked together to the showers. Jim’s preference was _water_ showers, especially after swimming. Spock often preferred the sonics after they had sparred together or done other gym activities. It was anybody’s guess which type of shower Spock would choose after swimming.

He chose the water shower stall next to Jim’s. The steam swirled around him, almost obscuring his naked form. _He must have the water on its highest temperature setting,_ Jim thought. It looked near scalding. He could feel the heat of the steam as it reached his nostrils. His human skin would not enjoy water that hot, but the steam felt good to his lungs. Spock must have been really cold. Why had he wanted to swim anyway? He never had before. 

Jim could see Spock flushing green through the steam as he lathered up his own body and hair. He remembered what he had imagined Spock doing to him in the shower. _Stop_ , he told himself forcefully. _Stop right there._ He pushed it from his mind before his body could react.

As he rinsed off, Jim felt the sadness again of never being able to mind meld with Spock. He was sure Spock could figure out what was wrong if they could meld. Spock’s telepathic abilities were formidable. He had pulled Dr. Van Gelder back from near total madness. 

_I haven’t thought about Van Gelder or Tantalus in a long time._ Jim wondered why the penal colony’s director had popped into his mind, but decided it was just a good example of how powerful Spock’s telepathy was. 

_I should ask for his help. I need it. I need him!_

No, it was out of the question. If Spock saw the sexual scene he’d imagined in the shower, Jim would die of embarrassment... but he would die of loneliness if he couldn’t ever get closer to Spock. 

_Why am I having these problems?_ he wondered. _I’ve got the fullest life anyone could have. Thousands of people down there today lining the streets cheering for me, wanting to BE me. Where is this feeling of emptiness coming from?_

Jim was usually pretty in tune with his own psychology. He didn’t like being bewildered by his own thoughts and behavior. He made the decision to tell Spock. His telepathy notwithstanding, Spock was a towering intellect. Perhaps he could solve the problem with just a short talk. It was worth a shot. If his friend wanted to meld, he’d just have to come up with a clever dodge. He could do that.

“Spock, I want to show you some old pictures of me and Sam, if you have time. They’re in my quarters. Peter had a bunch of them in a Christmas tin.”

“I would be interested in seeing them,” Spock said as they toweled off, “and hearing how the visit with your nephew went.”

“Great!” 

_Great that I won’t have to go back to my cabin alone,_ he thought.

***

Spock wasn’t sure where McCoy was. He had heard Dr. Noel ask him to go find the captain. Either he was failing spectacularly or he wasn’t trying. _Curious_ , Spock thought. 

He wanted to ask Jim about Helen, but there seemed no discrete way to bring it up. Directness was one of Spock’s strengths, but he couldn’t picture himself asking, “Why did you have sex with Helen, and why did it make you cry?” McCoy would know how best to broach the subject. Where _was_ he?

As Kirk and Spock stepped into Jim’s quarters, Spock sat in his usual chair and Kirk plopped down at his desk.

Yeoman Matousek had been by and left three civilian shirts as instructed, hanging on the room divider where the captain would see them.

“Ah,” Jim said. “I like all three of these.”

He’d asked the yeoman to get him some short-sleeved shirt options from the quartermaster suitable for a Denevan picnic. 

“Any of these ought to fit the bill for tomorrow. Which one do _you_ like best, Spock.” He knew they were all perfectly fitted for him, so he didn’t need to try them on.

Spock turned his attention to the task. He looked back and forth between Jim and the shirts several times.

Jim chuckled at how seriously he was taking this. “Do you want me to hold them up individually?”

“Yes,” Spock said.

Jim grabbed the first one and held it by the shoulder seams against his chest. Then he repeated with the others. They were all lightweight, collared, button-down shirts of the same cut. The colors and patterns of the fabrics were the only differences.

“The pastel plaid,” Spock said finally.

Jim smiled. That was his favorite, too. It had a soft, relaxed look to it. “Plaid it is,” he said, returning the shirts to their hangers and stowing them in his closet. “Thanks, Spock.”

He returned to his chair and opened the picture tin. He peered in and it made him grin to see a smiling picture of Sam looking up at him.

“You know... I was wrong about Peter,” Jim told Spock. “He hasn’t forgotten his father. He remembered all the stories Sam told him about these pictures and he showed me new ones from Deneva and told me stories about their life before the invasion. He was tight with his dad and he doesn’t want to block it out. He just really likes his guardians.”

“I am pleased your visit went well,” Spock said. 

“Christmas, ’39. I was six,” Jim said, holding a picture out to Spock. “Sam had just woken me up and was showing me that it had snowed overnight.”

The picture showed the happy profiles of two boys looking out a window, a lighted Christmas tree in the background. Spock stared with interest at the younger child. Jim at six. It was fascinating to see his captain that young, strawberry blonde hair and rosy cheeks.

“Here’s one of all four of us hiking in Sedona, Arizona. Ever been there, Spock?”

“I have not.”

“It’s red like Vulcan.”

Spock looked at the picture. “Interesting rock formations,” he said. “This is on the Colorado Plateau, if I am not mistaken.”

“Yes. Really good scenery, but I remember the shale made it a challenging hike. We kept slipping. See the red dirt all over our pants?” Jim chuckled at the memory. “So much dust got ground into my white socks that my mother threw them away when we got home.”

Spock could relate to that. “May I presume the dirt in Iowa is not red?”

“Nope. Just plain old brown. See.” He produced a picture of their white farmhouse set against rows of corn in the background. The foreground was dirt. 

“Here’s my first car… oh, and here’s that Father’s Day when we gave Dad the world’s cheapest fishing rod. It broke the first time he used it.” Jim laughed. “…me and Sam on a tractor. He’s trying to help me steer and I won’t let him.”

The time periods kept changing. Jim was twelve and then he was five, and then he was nearly grown. The Kirks had an interesting way of keeping pictures, Spock thought. His own childhood pictures were neatly arranged by year and location… but the Christmas tin method seemed to work for the Kirks. 

“This one of Sam was the summer of ’46. He was 16. I was so mad at him that summer…”

“Why was that?” Spock asked.

“We always went away to summer camp together. You know? Swimming, canoeing… outdoor activities. We loved it and looked forward to it every year, but _that_ summer, Sam decided to go to a biology camp instead. He wanted to have something extra for his college applications. I should have understood, but I was furious with him.”

Jim shook his head, remembering how immaturely he’d behaved.

“I went to our usual camp alone that year, determined not to have a good time, but I made some friends, learned riflery and trapping, which Sam had never wanted to do. Trapping skills saved my life on Tarsus a year later….” Jim trailed off and was silent for a few seconds. “Funny how things work out, isn’t it?”

The question was clearly rhetorical, so Spock didn’t answer.

“Sam met Aurelan at the biology camp and they became inseparable after that. She was his first girlfriend and he married her. I always thought I’d be like that, too, loyal to one girl, but….” Well, they both knew his reputation.

“Oh, here’s me and Ruth,” Jim said, perking up as he gazed at her glowing, youthful face. He handed the picture to Spock. “She was _my_ first girlfriend. Sweet person.” He’d had some tumultuous relationships after Ruth that made him appreciate how serene and even-tempered she had been. “She always wore a flower in her hair,” Jim said fondly. “I can’t remember her ever getting angry about anything.”

Spock picked up a picture of Jim and Sam riding horseback. “Your family had horses,” he commented.

“My parents, no. This is at my uncle’s ranch in Idaho.” Spock flipped the picture over and read: “Fall Break 2242.” He looked up at Jim. “You were nine years old.”

Jim nodded. He wondered if Spock were impressed that he could ride such a large animal at so young an age. “Those are Morgan horses. The chestnut I’m riding is Thunderbolt. He was much gentler than his name suggests. The black one that Sam is on is Tucumcari, named after a city in New Mexico. She was more ornery and threw Sam once, but he climbed right back on.”

Jim’s admiration for his brother shone in his eyes. Spock was glad to be sharing these memories with his friend. He knew if he were patient and didn’t press, Jim would eventually confide what was troubling him.

“Those trees look like aspens, but they’re poplars,” Kirk continued. “They would turn bright yellow like that in the fall around my uncle’s place, if it was a wet year and there was a really good cold snap.” Jim was aware that he was babbling a bit and perhaps boring Spock, who probably knew more about the scientific processes of Earth’s foliage cycles than he would ever know, but this distraction was holding him together and he didn’t want it to end.

“Where was this one taken, Jim?” Spock asked. He wanted Jim to know that he was interested.

“Oh! Washington County Fair… Iowa. Our county held an annual fair. They probably still do. It was like an amusement park with picnic grounds. We’d have corn on the cob and fried chicken and then go ride roller coasters and other rides that flipped you upside down. Sam would get sick sometimes, but I never did. That’s how I knew I was the one meant to live in space.” He winked at Spock to let him know he was only partially serious.

Spock looked at the boys in the picture. Jeans, plaid shirts, and huge smiles. He noticed the shirt Jim was wearing in this picture bore a close resemblance to the one he’d selected for him. Jim looked good in plaid and apparently always had.

Kirk yawned. He was looking forward to the picnic his nephew’s guardians had arranged, and here he was staying up all night. _I’m going to be too tired to enjoy it,_ he worried.

“Spock, I have to get some sleep, but...” 

_Just tell him._ He felt so close to Spock right now. He could tell him. 

“I can’t sleep lately. My mind won’t turn off and I’ve been getting myself all worked up. I… I don’t like being alone lately. When Peter and the Nelsons went to bed and I was alone in the guest room, I felt… well, I couldn’t endure the quiet. I just had to get where there was activity and people. I… don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.”

It was difficult for the captain to admit weakness, Spock knew, even privately. He leaned in and touched Jim’s arm in a show of support.

“I _have_ noticed some divergences from your normal behavior patterns,” Spock said.

“Yeah, I don’t feel right.”

“When did you start feeling this way?”

“I don’t know. When did you notice the first ‘divergence?’”

“The final night on Lyra 10. You came back to the celebration after stating that you were tired and wanted a ‘night in,’” Spock prompted.

“Yes, I remember feeling happy to be in my quiet quarters alone that night, with your _Chronicles of Commander Spirek_ … which is very good, by the way,” Kirk said.

“Thank you, Captain.”

“I read for about an hour, I guess, then I looked over some news stories and replied to a letter from Peter. I was in bed by 22:00… wait no, I fell asleep in the chair,” he said sheepishly. “When I woke up the lights had gone off and it was a few minutes past 22:00. I laid down, but my chest was tight. I felt anxious, like I was missing everyone and wanted to be at the party. That’s the first time I remember having that sensation, uncomfortable being alone.” 

“Hm,” Spock said.

“It’s getting worse, Spock,” Jim confided. “Tonight at Peter’s, we had a nice dinner, watched the parade on the news, went through these old pictures, and had a great chat. I was fine, but when everyone got tired and went to bed, I found it torturous to be alone with my own thoughts. There was no peace. My mind was like poison, creating darker and darker images until I couldn’t stand the solitude of that guest room a minute longer. I wanted to be with people, _had_ to be with people, so I came back to the ship where it was daytime....” 

Jim wasn’t ready to admit to Spock the terrible mistake he’d made with Helen, so he left that out.

Spock didn’t ask. He was still curious about the despair he had sensed when Jim had held his hand briefly on Lyra 10. Now was his chance to ask.

“Captain, as we walked on the beach with Dr. McCoy, you touched my hand…”

Jim remembered.

“Were you trying to convey your thoughts to me? I can sense only emotional states without a proper meld,” Spock reminded.

“What did you sense in me?” Jim wondered.

“Despair,” Spock replied, “which was incongruous with the emotions you were outwardly displaying. Do you remember your thoughts at that moment?”

Jim nodded. “I was thinking you might be leaving for Vulcan when the mission concludes,” he answered honestly.

“That distresses you?”

“In that moment it did,” Jim admitted. 

“Why?” Spock asked.

_You don’t know, Spock?_ he thought, but he said, “It’s just poor timing. Taking a leave of absence could cost you a command of your own. Don’t you want one?”

“I do not. I have told you as much.”

“I know, but….” Apparently, Spock was serious about not desiring his own command. Jim brightened. “Well then, stay with me. Do another five year mission!”

Spock thought of his previous captain, Christopher Pike, who reluctantly left the Enterprise to serve as fleet captain. “You may be promoted to fleet captain or admiral,” Spock pointed out. 

Jim shrugged. He knew that was a possibility, despite his formal request to remain. 

“I may lose my career altogether if I can’t get my mind under control,” Jim said. He was worried, but with Spock close by it didn’t seem so bad. “I don’t suppose ‘off-worlders’ are allowed at this mysterious Gol retreat? I could use a little help with my mental control. Is that what they teach there?” Jim probed.

“Typically, your controls are above average.”

“For a human, you mean?”

“Of course.”

Spock could flatter him and insult him in one breath. Jim smiled at his friend.

“Jim, perhaps if we melded I could ascertain the cause of your atypical mental states,” Spock offered.

_Oh, how I would love that,_ Jim thought. To be merged with Spock, their thoughts mingling. At the moment, nothing sounded better to him. He couldn’t accept, though, so he said, “We don’t know what this is. If there’s any chance of contagion, we can’t risk both of us being infected.”

“Captain, I doubt…”

“But I’ll tell you how you _can_ help me, if it’s not too much to ask.”

Spock was already nodding. Of course he would do whatever Jim wanted.

“I really need a couple hours of sleep if I’m gonna be good for anything at the picnic and wreath-laying tomorrow. If you have some computer work to do, could you do it _here_? I think I could fall asleep if you’re here.”

“Certainly, Jim.” 

Kirk let out a breath of relief.

“Thanks,” he said self-consciously. He hated feeling so vulnerable, but this was a practical way Spock could help in the short-term and he knew his friend didn’t mind. It killed him to refuse the mind meld offer, but he was glad he’d been able to come up with the excuse of possible contagion so quickly. Hopefully, Spock bought it. He didn’t want Spock thinking that he didn’t trust him enough to open his mind to him.

Jim changed into the shorts and t-shirt that he slept in and turned the lights down a bit.

“I wish you had your harp with you,” he said to Spock. 

“If music will help, I know some selections….” Spock pulled up his favorite Vulcan harpist playing classical Terran music.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Jim said as the soft notes filled the room. “You play better, though.” He smiled his charming smile at Spock. 

“I hardly think so,” Spock said. “This is T’Arba, a Vulcan virtuosa, but thank you, Captain.” 

That made Jim curious about something. “Spock, my nephew knows a Vulcan boy his age named Tegren. Is it unusual for a male name to start with a T?”

Jim set his alarm and climbed under the covers to lie on his stomach, pushing his pillow up out of the way. 

“No, not in the Sh’vl’gai and Hn’tk’gai families.”

“Oh.”

How Spock’s mouth could make sounds like that, Kirk didn’t know. He was pretty sure _his_ couldn't. _Oh, no. Now I’m thinking about Spock’s mouth._ Shame welled up, but that didn’t stop him from wishing Spock would come closer, touch him, soothe his body with those wonderful hands of his, uncoil his anxious mind.

“Would you like me to rub your back, Jim?” Spock asked kindly. He knew that physical contact could alleviate some of Jim’s mental anguish. He wanted to offer it since Jim probably wouldn’t ask. 

“Yes,” Jim said. Spock’s hands were perfect. So much strength in them, yet he was so gentle. 

Spock came and sat on the side of Jim’s narrow bed at hip level. He pulled the covers back and began pressing the heels of his hands up and down along Kirk’s spine. Jim’s t-shirt was thin and the heat from Spock’s hands easily permeated. It felt incredibly soothing. Spock was silent and just kneaded Jim’s muscles with the firm pressure of his thumbs and fingers. 

“...so, Peter wants to be friends with this kid,” Jim continued, “but isn't getting anywhere… ahhh… so, I gave him some tips… on befriending a Vulcan… ohhh… mmm….” Jim was floating.

“Tips?” 

“Mmm.”

Spock was amused, and curious. “What did you tell him?”

“...”

...Jim?”

Between Spock’s magic hands and the lilting music, Jim had managed to drift off.

When his breathing changed, Spock let his hands come to rest on Kirk’s shoulders. He longed to enter that dynamic mind, search doggedly for whatever was hurting his captain and correct it, but Jim had declined. He must respect that. He’d thought perhaps to deliver a psychic suggestion of ‘sleep,’ but Jim evidently didn’t need it. He peered down at the side of Jim’s sleeping face for a few moments, then rose and moved to the desk.

There was a line of inquiry Spock wanted to pursue. He sat down in Jim’s chair and adjusted the computer screen to begin his research.

_Jim said that on the night when this apparently began, he read a book, wrote a letter, and viewed news stories. The computer records will reveal what he read during those hours and provide insight into ideas that could have impacted his mind that night,_ Spock thought.

It was a good place to begin, and he had two hours. 

It didn’t take him long to zero in on the story about Tantalus V. He watched the video and saw the swirling lights of Dr. Adams’ neural neutralizer. He imagined the psychological effect seeing it again might have had on Jim. The captain had essentially been tortured with this ‘therapeutic’ device in Dr. Adams’ treatment room. He had needed a few weeks of counseling with Dr. Noel to recover. From memory, Spock retrieved an exchange between Dr. McCoy and the captain after the accidental death of Dr. Adams:

“It's hard to believe that a man could die of loneliness,” McCoy had said.

“Not when you've sat in that room,” the captain replied.

Spock considered. It was clear that Jim’s experience four years ago had rendered him all too able to imagine dying from loneliness. What must that have felt like? Was it anything like what Kirk was going through now? Spock decided it was likely that the news story and video had triggered a suppressed memory in Kirk, affecting him on a subconscious level. He wanted to search Jim’s mind to confirm his hypothesis and decided to ask him again for a meld when he woke. 

Spock remembered the tortured, irrational thoughts in the mind of Dr. Van Gelder when he had melded with _him_. Spock had never experienced insanity first hand like that. The paranoia and fear had wrought havoc on his ordered Vulcan mind and he’d had to fight hard to pull the man’s mind back to reality. Van Gelder had been conditioned to feel extreme pain every time he struggled to remember his name and position at the Tantalus Penal Colony. Helping him recover had been very satisfying for Spock, and he’d wanted to do the same for Jim when he became a victim of the same torture.

The captain had opted for traditional human counseling from McCoy and Noel, though. Spock hoped his friend would not refuse his telepathic help this time. Jim’s behavior was becoming erratic and he was right when he said he could lose his command. Spock needed to report his hypothesis to Dr. McCoy, but he couldn’t leave Jim, so he typed his thoughts into a message and sent it to the doctor marked URGENT.

He looked over at his sleeping captain, noticing his eyes were beginning to move beneath their lids. Jim was dreaming. REM sleep was restorative in humans. Hopefully, Kirk could be the person he wanted to be tomorrow for his nephew and all of his Denevan admirers. Spock knew how much he wanted to be what they expected. 

  
  


***

_Oh, Helen,_ Jim called out in his dream. _Helen! I love you, Helen!_

_Beware of this one, he’ll break your heart,_ said Ruth to Helen. 

_Ruth!_ Jim exclaimed when he noticed her. _Oh, sweet Ruth, you were my first love…_

_Give it a rest, Jim,_ Ruth scoffed. _You were only after one thing, and when you got it, you were off to the Academy without so much as a glance back at me._

_He’s ambitious, that’s for sure,_ Janice Lester smirked. 

_Janice!_ He hadn’t seen her there. _We had a terrific year together at the Academy. You were just as ambitious as me, so bright and promising. You could have been anything,_ Jim said.

_Anything but a starship captain. You didn’t even care that I was blocked from my dream,_ she said snidely. _YOU went on to live it, and left me behind._

_I knew from the beginning I’d be left behind,_ Carol Marcus said. 

_Carol!_ Jim cried. _Mother of my child. I wanted to love you and raise our son together._

_You wanted no such thing!_ Carol said with disdain. _Gary Mitchell outlined my whole campaign for me, told me all of your favorite things, so I could catch your eye. What a waste of time. Even a pregnancy couldn’t keep you by my side._

_He got ME pregnant, too,_ Miramanee said. _I was going to bear him many strong sons._

_Miramanee! My wife! My darling,_ Jim said.

_No, I was Kirok’s wife, a god’s wife. I don’t know who YOU are. I died trying to protect a false god._

_I tried to protect him, too… him and his strange friend Spock when they appeared in the basement of my mission, destitute and in need,_ Edith Keeler said.

_Oh, Edith! I love you, Edith!_ Jim cried, reaching out to her. 

_A lie is a very poor way to say hello,_ she said in her English accent. It sounded flippant and cruel this time, though. The kindness he had loved her for was gone.

_Edith, I didn’t want you to die!_

_Yes, you did. Your precious Mr. Spock told you to let me die and you DID! Dr. McCoy tried to save me from that car, but you held him back! You never loved me!_

_He professed to love ME, too,_ Rayna said, _but his love kills._

_Oh, Rayna,_ Jim said. _I didn’t realize the danger to you. I didn’t know._

_I had been built and educated by the loving hand of a brilliant, lonely man, who deserved my companionship, but you confused me and deprived him of his mate._

_I was deprived of my father,_ Jame Finney said. _James T. Kirk: the man who drove my father insane! They were lovers, you know?_ she told the other women. _Then, Jim betrayed him and ruined his career. Dad lost his mind over it._

_No, Jame,_ Jim said. _Your father was my mentor and friend. He wanted more, that is true, but I refused since he was married. I didn’t want to hurt your mother… and I never wanted to hurt Ben._

_Liar!_ Jame screamed.

_He lied to ME, as well_. _Told me he liked me,_ Miri said, _but it was just to get my help. I’d never seen a grup who wasn’t violent, Jim, and I thought you were so special, but you only liked Yeoman Janice._

_Oh, he liked me all right,_ Yeoman Rand said sarcastically. _You’re wrong about him not being violent, though. He showed his true colors in my cabin._

_Janice!_ Jim protested, _the transporter had split me into two people. That was the evil half of me who attacked you_. _You know that._

_So you admit that half of you is evil and violent?_ Janice said. _You’re just a bag of barely contained lust, Jim Kirk. I had to transfer ships! You use people and throw them away. All of these women know it! We all admired you once, but now we know what you really are._

_No. No!_ Jim argued. The group of women seemed to be multiplying by the minute, each one with a grievance on her lips.

_Harry Mudd said starship captains were paragons of virtue,_ Eve McHuron said, _but YOU let that con man sell me to Ben Childress on Rigel 12, that God-forsaken mining planet, for a few lithium crystals._

_Miss McHuron?_ Jim said. She looked gaunt and work-worn, nearly as unkempt as Miri. Her coveralls were in stark contrast to how he remembered her in her sparking pink gown.

_My friends and I had husbands waiting for us on Ophiucus III, decent farmers. We could have lived in the sun and fresh air, but now I’m raising children in a sandblasted hell with a husband who’s as gritty and coarse as his miserable planet._

_Wait, you chose…_ Kirk began, but Areel Shaw cut him off.

_You think trafficking victims are going to make good choices?_ the attorney asked. _They’d been drugged and deceived. They were counting on you to save them, Mr. Paragon of Virtue. You let those horny miners have them because it was expedient. You couldn’t be bothered getting them to a starbase where they could get legal counsel and protection._

_But… it seemed…. Maybe I should have…_ Jim struggled. His decisions had felt reasonable to him at the time.

All of the women rolled their eyes at him and scoffed in disgust. Miss Shaw moved closer to him, then turned back to the gathering of women, as though to make a closing statement.

_James Kirk is hardly the valiant defender of women he fancies himself to be. We have all attested to THAT. Sadly, he’s just a charmer with a handsome face and a glamorous job, no real depth or valor… and now, he thinks he’s in love with his Vulcan,_ Areel sneered, tossing her blonde head in amusement and turning back toward Kirk.

Jim felt exposed, shocked that she knew this and had just revealed it to the others.

_If you meld with him, Jim dear, he’ll see that you have nothing in that pretty head of yours but selfish, lustful thoughts. He’ll be repelled by you!_

Areel laughed louder and soon all of the other women joined in. They turned their backs on Kirk and walked away in separate directions.

_No, wait! Don’t leave me alone!_ Jim cried. _Please!_ Even tormentors were better than being alone.

The women’s laughter faded and their fair forms wavered and dissolved into the ether. Jim was utterly alone in blue-gray nothingness with only their harsh words of rebuke ringing in his ears. The emptiness, the solitude. It was unbearable.

Then, he saw a male figure in blue moving toward him from very far away. 

_Spock! Is it you, Spock?!_ He started running for all he was worth. Spock was running toward him, too. They slammed into each other and fell to their knees.

_Jim. I am here. You are safe._ Spock held Jim’s face in his hands and kissed his lips softly.

Jim embraced him. _Ahh, Spock! I knew they were wrong. I knew you cared._ He kissed Spock passionately, but it wasn’t enough. He needed. Needed! _I want you, Spock. I’m so empty. So empty! Please help me._

Spock pulled off their shirts and suddenly their pants were gone, too. Spock was hard and turning Jim away from him so he could enter him from behind.

_Ohhhh,_ Jim moaned as Spock breached his body. His hot chest and legs were pressed tightly against the length of Jim’s back and thighs. The Vulcan’s hands were wrapped around his waist and chest holding him tightly, and he was throbbing inside him with a heat and pressure that filled him. Their minds were one. Jim couldn’t tell if they were standing up or lying down. There was no orientation, just the fullness of Spock. _Spock_. And for a moment, it was enough. The emptiness was gone, held at bay by Spock’s love. Spock was everything. There was no more loneliness. He was floating in a haze of bliss.

Then, things began to unravel. Spock wasn’t holding him as tightly anymore, wasn’t kissing the back of his neck or murmuring his name like a litany of adoration. His legs were cold and then his back. He could feel the imprints of where Spock’s loving hands had held him, but those hands were gone now, gone with the feelings of fullness and contentment.

_Spock, where are you?_ No one answered. There was no one there. Even the ground beneath him was gone, if it had ever been there. His skin was cooling rapidly. Jim was naked and there was a cold breeze. He was certain he would never see Spock again. Spock had touched his mind, seen what was there, and was repulsed. Areel was right. Spock was never coming back.

Jim wanted to die. The breeze chilled him to the bone and his pounding heart wanted to stop and never start again. Why would someone like him need to live? He had hurt and disappointed so many people. If there was a cliff, he would have hurled himself off, but there wasn’t. He was nothing, inside and out. Nothing. He curled into a ball and began to sob, wishing his tears could dissolve him and end this pain.

***

“Captain… Jim!” Spock called, grabbing his shoulder and shaking it.

Jim woke up and looked into Spock’s concerned eyes. 

“You were dreaming,” Spock said. 

Jim looked around his familiar quarters. Harp music was still playing and Spock was sitting on the bed beside him. So close.

“Oh, Spock!” Jim said, throwing himself into Spock’s arms. He sobbed from relief. “My God! I’ve never had such a bad dream!” he choked. “Everyone hated me and you… you were gone! You were gone.”

Spock held him tightly. Jim was trembling and could barely catch his breath. “It is over, Captain. You are safe.”

Spock calling him ‘Captain’ made him realize he wasn’t acting like one. He slowly pulled himself away from Spock and dried his eyes. His heart was still hammering, but he was getting control of himself a little. He noticed Spock was holding his hand, experiencing the aftermath of the terror with him. He pulled it away. Spock’s eyes had such concern and love in them. Jim didn’t deserve that. He looked away and made an effort to calm his breathing.

Spock touched his arm. “Jim, I may have discovered the cause of your affliction. Do you remember reading a recent news story about the Tantalus V Penal Colony?”

“What? …Tantalus?” Jim said. “No.”

“The story reported that Dr. Van Gelder had retired and the new director of the facility allowed the neural neutralizer to be reassembled for a documentary.”

Jim was still recovering from the dream, but he was following what Spock was saying.

“The device was shown operating in a video that accompanied that news article,” Spock explained. “Did you watch that video, Jim?”

Kirk shook his head. He had no recollection of the story or the video.

“The computer records report that you did,” Spock said. 

“Oh?” Jim was surprised. He took a moment to examine his memories but there was nothing. He looked at Spock and gave a slight shrug and a head shake.

“Captain, please allow me to search your mind. I can determine if seeing the neural neutralizer is the cause of these negative feelings you have been experiencing. If my hypothesis is correct…”

_No,_ Jim thought. _I can’t meld with Spock. I can’t! He’ll see._

Jim pretended to consider, while his mind scrambled for a reasonable way to decline. Just then, his wake-up alarm went off. He jumped.

“I’ve got to be back in the Nelsons’ guest room in 10 minutes,” Jim said, hopping out of bed and heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“Captain, I do not think it is a good idea to go back down to the planet, under the circumstances,” Spock said, getting up and following him.

Jim was determined. “Peter’s guardians are making a special breakfast and his girlfriend is coming over to meet me. I have to be there,” he explained. “I’ll be okay around people, Spock. I always am.” He stuck the toothbrush in his mouth and brushed fast and furiously. He could see Spock in the mirror behind him, standing at a respectful distance looking worried.

Jim rinsed his mouth and said, “We only have one more day here, Spock. The picnic, the wreath-laying this evening… then we’re gone. Twelve days in empty space to Vega. We’ll have plenty of time to figure this thing out then, okay?”

“But, moments ago you were…,” Spock began warily.

“It was a dream, Spock. Just a bad dream. Humans have them. It’s fading.”

Spock looked dubious.

Jim pulled off his sleep clothes and quickly dressed in his uniform pants and the shirt Spock had helped him choose for the picnic. He shoved a clean dress uniform shirt with regalia already attached into a leather satchel for the ceremony at the memorial cemetery later in the day. He’d hang it up in the guest room’s closet as soon as he arrived.

Ducking back into the bathroom to comb his hair, he said, “I’m fine now, Spock, really. It was just a dream.”

“That may be,” Spock said, “but I do not believe you are ‘fine.’”

“Well, ‘functional’ will have to do.” Jim pulled the bag’s strap over his shoulder and picked up the Christmas tin full of pictures. “Listen, Spock, thank you for everything you did for me so I could get some shut-eye. I feel pretty rested, considering.”

“You are welcome.”

“Are you coming to the picnic?” Jim asked hopefully, as he stepped around Spock and headed for the door.

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll see you there. 11:30 Deneva time.” Jim doubted any of his other officers would make it, since that was during the ship’s night. He was glad Spock wanted to come, though. He was always stronger when Spock was by his side. He gave his friend a fond smile, then was off like a shot to the transporter room.

Spock stood in Jim’s quarters, wondering exactly what he should do at this point. Then with a frown, he headed for Sickbay.

***

Spock had a very serene way of reading someone the Riot Act, but he _did_ do it on occasion. This was going to be one of those occasions, if he found McCoy twiddling his thumbs at his desk with his feet up, which is how he was picturing him as he walked toward Sickbay. 

What had McCoy been doing for the past four hours? The doctor might have found more persuasive words than Spock’s to get Jim to stay on the ship. The two of them together were a powerful force when they were worried about the captain, and Jim usually listened when they “double teamed” him, as he called it. Spock could have used McCoy’s help in Jim’s cabin… and why hadn’t he responded to his urgent message?

Though he would deny it, Spock was growing angrier and angrier as he approached Sickbay. When he stepped through the door however, Spock understood the reason for the doctor’s absence. 

“I'm not gonna tell you that wasn’t a close shave, Embry,” McCoy was saying to a male patient, “but you’re on the road to recovery now. Just watch where you’re steppin’ next time, huh?”

“I sure will, Doc,” the man said. “How soon can I get outta here?”

“Those nerves need a coupla days to heal, so you’re gonna be enjoying a ‘spa day’ at Leonard McCoy’s Resort for Clumsy Engineers...” 

The crewman and Nurse Chapel gave a courtesy laugh.

“...then 48 hours of rest in your quarters oughta do it.”

“You just saved my neck, Doc… literally. My whole life flashed before my eyes. Not being able to feel anything below my shoulders was something I’ll never forget.”

“Hm. You know, you should probably talk to Dr. Noel about it, actually. I’ll have her pay you a visit a little later,” Bones said.

The man looked very pleased about that, a little too pleased, Spock thought.

“Oh. Hello, Mr. Spock,” Christine said when she noticed him in the doorway.

“Nurse,” Spock nodded a greeting, before turning to McCoy. “Doctor, may I speak with you?”

“Sure. Sure. Gimme just a minute to get these protocols running, then Ensign Embry here can begin his first nerve regeneration cycle.” McCoy looked back at the ensign with a reassuring smile and pat on the shoulder.

Spock nodded. He recognized now that there had been a serious accident keeping the doctor occupied. 

“Ensign,” Spock acknowledged the injured crewman.

“Commander,” Embry replied, realizing the Vulcan was expressing sympathy.

“Now, _this_ is gonna put you to sleep,” Bones explained, “and you’ll wake in five hours to the beautiful face of Nurse Chapel… because I’ve gotta get some rest. If your numbers check out, she’ll release you to your quarters for two days of downtime.”

Christine smiled as McCoy attached a small, flashing device to their patient’s forehead and watched as his eyes slid shut. He double checked a few more things, then turned to Spock.

“Okay, let’s go to my office,” McCoy said, indicating the way as if Spock didn’t know.

When they had privacy, Spock said, “Doctor, the captain has returned to the planet. I am concerned about his mental state.”

Bones nodded. “I realized you overheard what Dr. Noel told me and assumed you’d gone looking for him. I was gonna help, but Embry was brought in. The poor man slipped climbing a Jeffries tube ladder and clocked himself under the chin with a rung on the way down. A cervical vertebrae severed his spinal cord nearly completely. It was tricky surgery, I’m tellin’ ya! He bit his tongue badly, too…”

Bones realized he needed to change gears. He’d been so focused on repairing the ensign’s injuries. “So, was the captain still… um… upset, when you found him? Where was he?”

“He was in high spirits, playing water polo with a group from Engineering and Security.”

McCoy gaped. “Right after…?”

“Apparently.”

“Did you speak to him?” the doctor asked.

“After the match ended, I swam with him and…”

“You swam?!” McCoy needed clarification on this. He’d never seen Spock swim.

“We raced.” 

“You didn’t sink to the bottom of the pool?”

“Obviously.” Spock wished the doctor could stay on topic.

“Okay, so did you ask him about Helen?”

“No. But the emotional symptoms she described had passed.”

“Chicken,” Bones smirked.

“An opportunity to ask him about it did not present itself,” Spock defended.

“It’s all right, Spock. I probably couldn’t have brought myself to bluntly ask him about it either,” McCoy admitted. “So what happened after that?”

“He invited me to his quarters to show me old pictures of his family that his nephew had.”

Bones looked thoughtful. “He’s probably just really grieving his brother. He never did that properly, I don’t think.”

“I believe there may be another cause of his atypical behavior, Doctor.”

“Do tell,” Bones said, leaning in.

Spock related his hypothesis to McCoy.

“Whose fool idea was it to fire up that damned torture chamber?!” McCoy reacted angrily. “Didn’t it occur to anyone that the victims of that thing might have a problem seeing it again in some documentary?!”

Spock agreed, but it seemed the doctor had missed the point slightly.

“I do not believe the captain is simply suffering traditional emotional upset brought on by triggered memories of a traumatic event. I suspect, since he does not recall watching the video at all, that something else is taking place.”

“What exactly?” McCoy asked.

“I do not know, but the captain is unstable. His moods are fluctuating between two extremes. He reports being energized and comforted in the presence of others, but feeling anxiety and emptiness when alone. After he showed me the pictures, he asked me to stay while he slept for two hours. Even with me there, he experienced a nightmare he said was the worst he ever had.”

McCoy’s face showed the concern they both were feeling.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you with him, Spock,” Bones said, picturing the distress this must have caused his Vulcan friend. “Can you… can you meld with him? Help him the way you helped Van Gelder?”

“I have offered twice and he has declined.”

“Why?”

“I do not know.”

“Why did he want to go back down to the planet so soon? The picnic’s not ‘til 11:30, right?”

“He mentioned a family breakfast he was expected to attend. He was very determined,” Spock said.

McCoy nodded. He knew what a determined James Kirk was like.

“This is the last day he’s got to visit his nephew,” McCoy conceded. “Do you think he will make it through okay?”

“The captain stated that being around groups of people elevates his mood. He expressed the desire to continue with today’s activities as scheduled, then address his symptoms during our journey to Vega.”

“How do you feel about it, Spock? I can get him back up here on medical orders if you believe it’s warranted.” 

Spock took a breath and considered. “Will you accompany me to the picnic?” Spock asked. “You could observe him and render your own opinion.”

Bones felt tired after the demanding surgery, but agreed. He would forgo dinner and catch a nap. Picnic food sounded pretty good, actually, and it would be nice to see how Peter had grown since he’d treated him three years ago. He still felt guilty about not being able to save the boy’s mother. 

“Uniforms or civvies?” McCoy asked.

“Jim is wearing a plaid, short sleeved shirt, similar to one I saw him wearing at a picnic in an old picture. Perhaps you are familiar with Terran ‘picnic attire.’”

“Oh, sure. I’ve been to a few dozen picnics. It’s fun to eat outdoors when the weather is warm.”

Spock didn’t see how, but he was looking forward to seeing Jim enjoying himself. The image of his friend panicked and desperate was still fresh in his mind. He wanted to help him so badly. Hopefully, on the journey to Vega he would get that chance. He’d have to be patient and do this Jim’s way.

“Do you think that video in the news story would be dangerous to _me_ or any of the crew? It didn’t affect _you_ at all?” McCoy asked Spock.

“Millions of people have viewed that news story over the past two days. I think if it had caused widespread mental disturbances, we would know about it by now. Perhaps it only affects those previously conditioned by the neural neutralizer.” 

This gave Spock an idea for further inquiry. “If you will excuse me, Doctor, I have some research to do. I will meet you in the transporter room at 11:30.”

“Okay, Spock. I’m gonna catch some winks until then. Wake me if you need to for anything.”

“Very well.”

***

The captain beamed down into the guest room, so the Nelsons wouldn’t realize he hadn’t slept there. He set the Christmas tin on the nightstand and slid back the curtains from the room’s one window. The sun was up and it was casting a lovely light over the suburban landscape. A bush with light green leaves and large orange flowers was right outside his window, and beyond was the sprawling green space where the picnic would take place in a few hours. Some neighbors were already out there setting up wooden tables with black and white checkerboard tablecloths and flower bouquets. A fairly large lake with a fountain in the middle of it was off to his left and to his right, he saw a path winding into a forested area. Large, two-story houses formed an oval border to the scene. 

How different it was here compared to Deneva City only twelve miles away. Sam had lived in the city, but his letters also described this community. His family was often invited here on weekends to barbecue, explore the woods, or pedal-boat around the lake. He remembered from Sam’s letters how tight he and Aurelan were with their research partners, Tovin and Sarah, who were now Peter’s guardians. Jim decided he should make the effort today to get to know them better. 

Their own son, Derek, was only a couple of years younger than Peter and the boys got along well. It occurred to Jim that Peter was a big brother now, just like his dad had been. He smiled at the thought. Judging by the conversations they’d had thus far, Peter was well-adjusted and happy with his life. He didn’t wear his orphan status as a badge of victimhood. Jim admired that.

_Sam was so happy here,_ Kirk thought. He wished the invasion had never happened and he was just on Deneva for a visit with his brother. Sam and Aurelan were always so proud of his accomplishments. They’d come to see him off on the five-year mission, Peter in tow. Now Peter had new parents… and a girlfriend.

Jim hung up his clean dress uniform in the closet. He could smell bacon and the sound of people talking quietly beyond his closed door. The prospect of social interaction called to him and he opened the door.

“Uncle Jim, you’re up! Did you sleep well?”

“I did all right. That bacon just smells wonderful,” Jim said.

Peter led him to the kitchen where his guardians were cooking.

“Good morning, Captain Kirk,” Mrs. Nelson said. “I hope that mattress was comfortable enough for you.”

“Compared to my soldier’s cot it was a cloud,” Jim responded courteously. “Thank you for the invitation to stay the night.”

“Of course, Captain!”

“We’re happy to have you,” Mr. Nelson said. “The more time you can spend with Peter, the better. He’s so excited you’re here.”

Peter nodded and Derek chimed in, “Me, too!”

Jim smiled at the boys.

“Lindy will be here in a few minutes,” Peter said. “She can’t wait to meet you. She _says_ it’s just because you’re my uncle, but I know it’s mostly because you’re the great Captain Kirk.” Peter rolled his eyes and smirked in a way that reminded Jim of Sam.

Jim laughed. “Well, between having people who love me and people who hate me, I’ll take the love.”

“Me too, and how!” Peter agreed. “It’s great being a famous hero’s kin. Everybody likes me and I didn’t even DO anything yet.”

“It’s true,” Derek agreed. “Everyone always expects Peter to be brave and interesting and smart… even though he’s such a dum dum most of the time,” he jabbed.

“Take that back!” Peter said in mock anger, but ruffled his ‘little brother’s’ hair fondly. “You _wish_ your uncle were James T. Kirk.”

“Yeah, kinda,” Derek admitted, staring at Jim. “I’ve never seen you in regular clothes before. I thought you wore your uniform all the time.”

“Now who’s the dum dum?” Peter jabbed back.

The whole sibling interaction thing was warming Jim’s heart.

“Boys, wash your hands and set the table for our guests, please,” Mrs. Nelson instructed, “but first, call Lindy and tell her we’re about to eat.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Kirk asked, kind of wanting a chore, too.

“Oh, aren’t you a dear?” Mrs. Nelson said. “Your parents raised two fine boys.”

Jim blushed. No one had said that to him in ages. He gave a side glance toward Derek and Peter and returned the compliment. “You’re not doing too bad yourselves.”

Sarah and Tovin smiled at the acknowledgement. “Peter is so dear to us,” Mrs. Nelson said, “and a wonderful influence on Derek. We used to have to hound him to do his schoolwork, but since he decided he wanted to be like his ‘big brother,’ we haven’t had any problems. Peter is always so studious.”

“Yep, no need to crack the whip with that one,” Mr. Nelson agreed. “I hope you weren’t expecting him to go to Starfleet Academy, though, Captain. He seems set on staying on Deneva and being a biologist like his parents.”

“A noble goal,” Jim said. “However he wants to use his talents is fine with me.”

***

Breakfast was delicious and Jim enjoyed the company. Lindy was a bit starstruck and awkward at first, but as she got used to Kirk, he could see that she was a smart, personable kid. She wore denim jeans like the boys did and had long, unbound sandy hair. She was very slim and seemed more child than woman. Lindy and Peter struck Jim more as playmates than sweethearts, except for the adoring glances they gave each other. The morning passed quickly with enjoyable conversation and soon it was nearly picnic time.

The Nelsons had excused themselves at 10:00 to go help prepare, leaving Jim some time with Peter and his friends.

“Are your officers coming to the picnic?” Lindy wanted to know.

“Only Mr. Spock that I know of,” Kirk replied. “It’s nighttime on the Enterprise.”

“I’d love to see the Enterprise!” Lindy said. “Could we see it?!”

“I don’t see why not,” Jim said. 

“Is it all right, Captain Kirk, to take kids aboard I mean?” Derek asked.

“He’s the captain, dum dum. He can do what he wants,” Peter said proudly.

“We’ve had kids onboard before. I’ll show you the bridge. Keep in mind there won’t be much happening because it’s night and we’re in orbit.”

“We can pretend the Romlulans are attacking!” Derek said with excitement.

“No, the Klingons!” Peter countered. “The Klingons are scarier.”

“ _Are_ the Klingons scarier, Captain Kirk?” Lindy asked. “What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever seen?”

A kid’s question, but suddenly an image of the neural neutralizer was pulsing in Jim’s mind’s eye. Swirling bands of color were radiating, pulling the life from him, draining him of every human contact, emptying him.

“Captain Kirk!”

“Uncle Jim! What’s wrong?” Peter shook his shoulder. 

Jim came back to the moment and smiled. 

“Your face went totally blank!” Derek said.

“Were you thinking about the scariest thing?” Lindy asked.

Jim considered. “I guess I _was_.” He hesitated for just a moment, then said, “Let’s get up to the Enterprise so we can be back in time for the picnic, shall we?” He grinned and flipped open his communicator.

“Yea!!!” 

“Your mom won’t mind, will she Lindy?” Kirk asked.

“Mind?! She’ll be telling people for weeks!”

“Kirk to transporter room. Four to beam up.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Then, he showed us the arboretum, Mom, and some science labs and Engineering,” Lindy said. “We got to see the warp core and touch the spare dilithium crystals! They used to use lithium, but now they have dilithium ones which are way stronger and don’t fracture as easily. Still, they always carry extras now, because if their only dilithium crystals burn out, they’re in big trouble with a capital T!” She said it in the overly animated way Jim had said it, and it made the boys laugh.

“Well, Captain Kirk!” Lindy’s mom said. “It certainly sounds like the kids had a wonderful, educational time. Thanks so much for including Lindy in the tour.”

“It was no trouble at all. I’m glad she enjoyed it,” Jim said.

“If only they’d let girls be captains,” Lindy said suddenly with a frown.

“They probably will someday and I think they should,” Jim said. “Maybe you’ll be the first.” He thought of Janice Lester’s frustrated ambitions. 

Lindy looked at her boyfriend, Peter, with wide eyes to see if he approved. He smiled at her, though personally, he hoped she’d stay with him on Deneva and be his wife someday. 

Jim spotted a very elderly man moving toward them over the grass in a hoverchair. He had a small Federation of Planets flag flying from the back and Starfleet stickers plastered along the side panels. He was obviously a fan! 

When he was close enough, Peter greeted, “Mr. Chadbourne! Hello, Sir. Uncle Jim, this is Mr. Wallace Chadbourne. He loves Starfleet!” Then, Peter stepped back and began recording their meeting as Mr. Chadbourne had asked him to do earlier.

“I can see that,” Jim smiled. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Chadbourne.”

“A pleasure! A real pleasure, Captain Kirk!” the jolly old man enthused. “Please call me Wally. Wow! I never thought I’d meet the great James T. Kirk in person.”

Jim smiled warmly at the love coming from this elderly man. 

“I was thrilled watching that parade on my screen yesterday. I haven’t seen the like since Captain Jonathan Archer. I followed his career when I was a boy. Wanted to go to the Academy so badly, but my grades were a mess. I ended up being a heck of a civil engineer later in my life, though…”

Lindy’s mom interrupted to praise Mr. Chadbourne. “Our Wally here designed the infrastructure of many Denevan suburban communities, including this one.”

“Well, it certainly is a beautiful place,” Jim said, looking around and taking a deep breath of fresh air. “My brother lived in the city, but he wrote about spending many pleasant hours here with the Nelsons.”

“The Nelsons are great people. They’re raising this young ‘un right,” Wally said, gesturing toward Peter who was still recording from a few feet away. Derek had scampered off to get his parents so they could see Captain Kirk meeting Mr. Chadbourne. The boy was returning with them now.

A few other neighbors wanted to witness the meeting, too, and started forming a small bunch of folks around Wally and the captain.

“I designed some aspects of the city as well, back in the day, before I started working on the ‘burbs. I was so proud of Willow Breeze, I decided to live here when I retired. My wife, God rest her soul, died a year before the invasion, but she loved it out here... I can’t believe I’m meeting the man who saved all of us. Thank you, Captain. I know you’ve heard that dozens of times, but thank you, thank you!”

Jim squatted down to Mr. Chadbourne’s level and was looking into the man’s weathered face, giving the personable engineer the attention he craved. Wally’s wild, overgrown eyebrows shot off in crazy directions, framing his sincere blue eyes in a way that Jim found pleasing. It made him look very wise and honest. Jim liked him.

“The colonists here are lucky to have you, Wally,” Jim said. The man beamed at the praise and Kirk’s use of his first name. “You know, I never tried to persuade my nephew to return to Earth and live with his grandparents. It was easy to see what a good situation he had here.

The Nelsons overheard and smiled. Captain Kirk was every bit as charming and likable as his reputation indicated. When he interacted with you, you felt like you were the most important person in his world. They were pleased that their beloved Mr. Chadbourne was getting the captain’s focused attention. 

“You gotta try the pedal boats, Captain,” Wally suggested. “They’re a favorite here, right Peter?”

“Oh, for sure,” Peter said, turning the camera toward himself for a moment to chronicle his own presence at the gathering, “Your thighs really burn after 20 minutes. It’s my favorite exercise… and you can feed the ducks out there, and if it’s hot, you can go through the fountain.”

“Peter always steers us under the fountain and ruins my hairdo,” Lindy said with mock annoyance.

Everybody laughed.

“Why don’t we do it?” Jim said to Wally.

“Oh, I used to love it, but I’m afraid all the pedal has gone outta these legs,” Wally said.

“Is there a back seat? Peter and I could pedal you around,” Jim suggested.

“Yeah, there is!” Lindy said. “We could help you in, Mr. Chadbourne.”

Damned if Wally was going to pass up an opportunity to go pedal-boating with the Hero of Deneva. Everyone around was encouraging him.

“Well, okay then. Let’s go. Maybe the lovely Lindy can ride in the back with me,” the old man said with a wink.

“Yea! Sure I will!” Lindy agreed.

Jim rose and the group started moving toward the lake. Other neighbors were still setting up the food under a canopied area. It was almost 11:30. 

_Spock will be here soon,_ Jim thought with excitement. He remembered the harp music and the feel of Spock’s strong hands kneading his back, trying to comfort him. He pictured Spock’s eyelashes sparkling with pool water under the gym lights and his friend’s naked form through the steam in the showers. _Ah, Spock, I love you,_ he thought in the privacy of his own mind. 

He felt passionate right now, alive and vital. Being surrounded by people who thought he was the cat’s pajamas made _him_ believe it, too. He was a good person with lots of loyal friends who he treated with love and respect. This picnic was all for him and he was going to enjoy it, spread himself around, meet as many people as he could, and spend some overdue time with his nephew. At the moment, he didn’t feel sad about Sam at all. Sam had enjoyed his life, produced a wonderful son who was thriving and cared for. Life went on.

“Get a red one, Pete,” Derek said, “That will look best in the recording.”

“Good idea.” Peter ran down the dock and pulled the coverings off boat number 6. 

Before he knew it, Mr. Chadbourne was being lifted from his chair by the strongest in the small group of neighbors and seated in the back beside Lindy. 

“Uncle Jim, you wanna drive?” Peter offered.

Boy, did he! At the moment, it seemed like the most exciting thing in the world. He hopped into the red boat next to Peter and took the wheel. This was going to be even better than the parade because he got to drive.

Peter was right, after about 20 minutes, Kirk’s thighs were on fire. They’d feel like jelly later, but he didn’t care. The exercise and fresh air felt so good. Everyone wanted to be out on the lake with Captain Kirk and Wally, and it was crowded with boats now. Jim entertained himself by aiming right toward some boaters, like he intended to ram them, then veering off. Everyone who was a “target” thrilled with laughter when he turned away from their boat at the last minute. People on the shore waved at them as they passed. 

Jim spotted Spock. He had McCoy with him. They were standing on a deck which jutted out over the lake near the area where the food was being served. Bones already had a chicken drumstick and napkin in one hand and a cup of lemonade in the other. Jim’s heart swelled seeing his two best friends. They were both in shirts similar to his and looked adorable. Spock had his trusty tricorder thrown across his chest and Bones was sporting a fishing hat for shade. Jim wanted to get closer to them.

“Spock! Bones!” he shouted as he approached. They had already spotted him. McCoy gave an enthusiastic wave with his drumstick. Spock offered a subtler version. Jim steered his boat as close to the deck as he could get. They couldn’t dock here, but it was fun to come floating up under his friends and say hello this way.

Spock had met the teenagers when Jim brought them to the bridge earlier, but McCoy’d been sleeping. 

“Hello, Mr. Spock. Hi, Mr. Spock!” Peter and Lindy greeted. 

Spock nodded at them. 

“Bones, this is Lindy, and you remember Peter,” Jim said.

“Of course. Hi, kids,” Bones said.

“And this is Mr. Wallace Chadbourne, designer of Willow Breeze, this beautiful community. Wally, this is…”

“Oh, I know. I know!” Wally enthused. “…your first officer and chief medical officer! Very nice to meet you both!”

Bones smiled at the old man, “You, too! Nice work,” he said, gesturing at the environs. Spock nodded in agreement.

“Jim, the food is terrific. When you get tired, come eat if you haven’t already,” McCoy said, taking a bite of his chicken leg.

The four boaters agreed they were ready for some lunch.

“See you in a bit,” Jim said to Spock and McCoy. He could barely tear his eyes away from them. Bones’ shirt was a pleasing blue and green plaid and Spock’s was white with thin blue horizontal and vertical lines. He looked like a sheet of old-style graph paper. Jim really liked it. 

“Ugh!” Kirk groaned when he started pedaling again. His legs were really feeling it! “How’re you holding up, Peter?” he asked. 

“I’m beat, Uncle Jim, but I’m glad we did this!”

“Me too!” Lindy seconded.

Jim steered them away from the deck, over what had become very choppy water, toward the dock at the other side of the small lake.

“Oh, I haven’t had this much fun in ages! Thank you so much, Captain,” Wally said, as Jim piloted the boat back against the dock and Lindy and Peter leapt out to tie the mooring ropes. Neighbors came to help the old man back into his hoverchair.

Wally noticed Derek with the camera. The kid had run around the lake, recording the whole thing, including the chat with McCoy and Spock.

“Bless your heart, boy,” Wally said. “I’m gonna treasure that recording.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Chadbourne.”

Most of the boats came in from the lake, now that the captain was onshore, and folks headed for the picnic tables. 

Spock and McCoy left the deck and were waiting for Jim when he arrived. They looked so good. He wanted to gather them up in his arms and hug them. He decided he could only get away with that in public with McCoy, so he embraced Bones, then settled for a clasp on the shoulder for Spock.

“You two look great! I didn’t expect to see you, Bones. I heard you had a tough surgery; how is Ensign Embry?”

“He’ll be tip top in a coupla days, Jim.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“He was paralyzed for a while and that shook him up. I’ve recommended a few sessions with Helen….”

_Helen_. Jim thought. _Helen, I wish you were here. I love you, Helen. I’ve loved you for y… No. No! I don’t love Helen._ He recalled their intimate encounter and how it had ended. His brows furrowed. No, he didn’t love Helen Noel and she didn’t love him. That was fine. Why was he worried about that suddenly? It was a beautiful day and his two best friends were here.

“You okay, Jim?” Bones asked, putting a hand on his elbow. He regretted mentioning Helen.

Jim nodded and smiled a charming smile. “Yeah. Let’s eat.” 

McCoy and Spock exchanged a concerned glance as Jim led them to the table of honor. Mrs. Nelson was indicating that’s where they should sit. Mr. Nelson had strung some white paper lanterns around the venue and they were bobbing pleasantly above the table. The festive scene was homey and made Jim smile.

“I’ll make a plate for you, Uncle Jim, if your legs are tired,” Peter offered. “You probably like all the same foods my dad liked, I guess, huh?”

“I supposed I do,” Jim answered.

Peter grabbed a thick paper plate off the stack and started filling it with different selections from the food tables. Jim sat and introduced Spock and McCoy to the Nelsons.

“Tovin, Sarah, these are my officers and friends, Dr. Leonard McCoy and Mr. Spock.”

“Oh, you two need no introduction,” Mrs. Nelson said. “Welcome! We’re so pleased you came, and the weather is so nice for you.”

“Well, we couldn’t let Jim have all the fun now, could we?” Bones said.

“I hope there are some foods here that you will like, Mr. Spock,” Mr. Nelson said. “We don’t get many Vulcans ‘round here. About ten years ago the Logans, in that house over there, had a summertime guest from Vulcan, a trader named Salek. I remember he enjoyed the watermelon and potato salad.”

“I shall try them,” Spock said.

“You’ve never had watermelon, Spock?!” Bones teased. “Ah, you’re in for a treat. C’mon let’s find you some.”

Jim was already seated. He swiveled his head to watch his two friends travel the serpentine line winding around the food tables. Spock looked incongruous here. Jim hoped he wasn’t uncomfortable. Everyone in line was wanting to talk to him, probably because his casual clothes signaled that he was approachable. Jim felt suddenly protective. He wanted Spock back by his side.

Peter returned with two plates piled high with delicious picnic food. He sat opposite Jim and slid one to him across the black and white checkered tablecloth.

“Thank you, Peter. This is just what I would have chosen… only maybe not quite this much,” he said with a fond grin. 

“My dad always said ‘It’s better to have too much than…’”

“…not enough.’ Yes, I know,” Jim laughed. He could hear his brother’s voice. He pictured him 30 years ago at summer camp, wolfing down the food and going back for seconds. The counselors joked that he had a hollow leg that he must be putting it all in. 

_I should share some camp stories with Peter,_ Jim thought, but as the idea came to him, he suddenly felt melancholy. _Ah, Sam. I miss you. You deserve to be here today. You and Aurelan held those things off for so long, waiting for help that didn’t come in time._ Again, the image of his brother lying dead on the floor came into his mind and he heard his sister-in-law screaming in pain and terror. _If I’d just been a little sooner. Just a little sooner._

Sam was dead. Dead and gone forever, his only brother… and Helen didn’t love him. _Helen._ Jim felt a chill move through him. _I’m alone,_ he thought. _Alone._ Sorrow and hopelessness flooded his mind. 

_Oh, no. It’s happening again,_ Jim had the wherewithal to realize, but he was powerless to stop it. _This can’t happen now, not in public. Please!_

Then Spock was sliding onto the picnic table bench beside him and Bones was pressed up to his other side, squeezing in tight to make room for a few more people to join them.

Before he could restrain the impulse, Jim clamped his hand down on Spock’s leg under the tablecloth and held on hard. _Spock, help me,_ he thought as the wave of anguish swept through him. 

Spock looked into Jim’s face and saw only the slightest outward indication of distress, but he slipped his hand over Jim’s beneath the tablecloth and a torrent of anxiety rushed into his mind. Never letting his Vulcan expression show that anything was wrong, Spock pried Jim’s hand off his leg and held it. He couldn’t speak to Kirk telepathically that way, unfortunately, but he _could_ share the emotions Jim was feeling and comfort him in the human way. He wove their fingers together and let Jim hold on tight.

Spock wanted to alert the doctor, who was oblivious, chatting on Kirk’s other side with some newcomers, but there was no subtle way to do so.

_Jim, I am here,_ Spock thought as he held his friend’s hand. _How can I help?_

Jim was clenching his hand very firmly at first, then after a moment, his grip loosened and he began running his thumb over Spock’s knuckles. Just being able to touch Spock like this calmed him. _Stay beside me forever, Spock,_ Kirk thought. He breathed deeply and let the warmth of the contact permeate him. He could feel the dark chain of thoughts uncoiling. He pictured living on Deneva with Spock, where everyone adored them and treated them like heroes. What would it be like to just live here in one of these pretty houses, explore the forests with Spock, go to parties, walk barefoot on these sprawling lawns? What would the rain sound like from their bedroom window?

Jim remembered how good it felt on Lyra 10 pushing Spock down in the sand and wrapping his arms around him, just holding him and listening to his heart. He imagined what it would feel like to lay Spock down in this fragrant, green grass and make love to him, unbutton that adorable ‘graph paper’ shirt and press himself against his bare chest, kiss his lips and tell him he loved him…

Spock sensed Jim’s mood shift like quicksilver and the joyfulness he’d been displaying earlier return. The captain looked relieved but confused. He turned to Spock as if to say, _What was that?_

Spock held his hand for another few moments, reciprocating the stroking. It seemed to be helping Jim climb back to the confident, lighthearted mood he’d lost. What Spock sensed from him now was intoxicating: joy and love… love for everyone, but holding his hand made it feel like the love was directed at him in particular. No one could see their hands beneath the draped tablecloth, so Spock indulged himself and Jim longer than he needed to. Kirk’s mood now was so beautiful Spock could swim in it. He loved Jim so much and wished his friend could feel it. He had no way of knowing Kirk was fantasizing about him. 

“Well, what do ya think, Jim?” McCoy asked.

“Uh, about what?” Kirk asked, quickly slipping his hand out of Spock’s and turning toward Bones.

“The mayor wanting to put up a statue of you?”

“Ha!” Jim said. “I guess he can do what he wants. I gave the go-ahead.” Jim rolled his eyes like he didn’t see the sense in it. 

“There’s a statue of Mr. Chadbourne when he was younger,” Derek said. “Not here, but at one of his first communities that he planned out: Sea View. It’s copper and has turned all green.”

“It’s still pretty neat,” Lindy said. “You’d look better in bronze, though, because of your hair and your gold captain’s shirt.”

“Yeah, bronze!” The kids all agreed. 

Jim and Bones laughed. 

“I dunno, Jim,” McCoy sighed. “Attitudes can turn, y’know? One era’s hero can be the next era’s villain. I’d hate to see your gleamin’ statue defaced or knocked over with its nose caved in, if the social tides ever turned against Starfleet,” Bones joked.

Jim gave him a look, then chuckled. “Well, I _am_ the crazed maniac who killed all of those sweet little one-celled creatures who were just trying to colonize and make friends…”

Everybody at the table but Spock laughed. It was too soon, really, but it felt good to the Nelsons and the other neighbors to laugh about the dark times. The invaders that had turned their lives upside down and terrified the whole colony for eight months had been gone for three years now, and the man who had destroyed them was in their midst enjoying a picnic. The Nelsons smiled at this magnificent man. They missed their friends, Sam and Aurelan, who would be honored with the other lost souls this evening at the wreath-laying, but this was a moment of laughter and celebration, an intimate gathering to show the captain from their hearts how much he meant to them. As rumored, the man had such a winning personality. They wished he could stay longer, not just for Peter’s sake, but because he inspired such good morale, like Wally did. The children looked up to people who had done great things and that was good for them.

“You definitely need a statue, Captain,” Mr. Nelson said. “Right next to Marjorie!”

Marjorie Hidalgo was the much-revered founder of the Denevan colony, which had grown to be the largest in the Federation. Over a hundred years ago, the charismatic trillionaire from Kentucky had recruited people from all over North America and finally set out on her bold venture with 9,500 colonists, to transform a tiny freighting line base into a thriving metropolis.

Marjorie had a big personality and a lot of panache. On Earth, she’d held several elected offices and was known for her practicality and good sense. Her mind was razor sharp and she glibly called out the political nonsense of her era with straight talk and brash humor. For five generations, she’d been the most beloved figure on Deneva. Her 26-ft marble statue stood proudly in the atrium of City Hall and most modern-day Denevan politicians strove to follow their founder’s philosophies. As a teenager, Sam had written a paper on Marjorie Hidalgo. He admired her. It’s no wonder he’d chosen to live and work on Deneva when he got the chance.

“Hidalgo-Fest is almost as big as Christmas around here, I‘ve heard,” McCoy said.

“Maybe there’ll be a Kirk-Fest someday!” Lindy suggested. 

Jim smiled humbly.

“We could decorate with little light-up Enterprises,” she elaborated, “and the theme colors could be Starfleet uniform colors: blue, red, gold, and kinda green, I guess.”

“Hey, party planner,” Lindy’s mom said, “we’re gonna need at least three more gelatin fruit salads. Can you go get them from the refrigerator?”

“Sure, Mom,” she said.

“I’ll help you,” Peter offered.

“Me, too,” Derek said, jumping up to join them. 

The three started off across the lawn to Lindy’s house.

“Good kids,” Bones complimented their parents. “Tell me, do they ever get up to mischief?”

“Now and then,” Mrs. Nelson laughed. “Tell them about the tree, Honey.”

Mr. Nelson frowned. “Aw, it seems kind of heavy-handed of me, now, Sarah.” He leaned in and said, “I took away Peter’s pocket knife last month, because he carved ‘Peter + Lindy’ on a tree just over there.” He gestured toward the path leading to the woods. “He did it really big and deep. It must have taken him hours. Lindy thought it was very romantic, but I didn’t like him scarring up a tree like that. I gave him back the knife after a week, though. It was his dad’s.”

Kids used to _scar up_ the trees in Iowa all the time. Jim remembered the ‘George + Aurelan’ that was carved into a tree by their lake. He wondered if it was still visible. ‘Samuel’ was his brother’s _middle_ name and Jim was the only one who called him Sam. To everyone else, he was George, just like their dad.

“Carving our names into tree bark was something we did in Riverside when we were young,” Kirk explained. “Sam must have told him about it.” He felt bad that Peter had been punished for taking a lesson from his family history. 

“Yeah, that’s what he told me. I didn’t realize it was a family tradition.”

“I’d like to see it,” Jim said. “…maybe take a picture for my folks.”

“Sure, Captain,” Mrs. Nelson said. “Just follow the path. There’s a stone bench in the shade… and it looks like you could use some shade, actually.” 

Jim often got pink when he was out in the sun too long. He imagined he probably looked that way now, after the pedal-boating and sitting outside. It was late spring but felt more like summer today.

“It’s on the tree above the bench. Can’t miss it,” Mrs. Nelson added.

“Spock, Bones? Feel like a walk?” Jim asked.

Spock nodded, pleased for an opportunity to talk privately with Jim. 

McCoy had been gabbing more than eating and still had a plateful. “I’ll join you in a bit, Jim,” he said.

“Let’s go walk off this good food, Spock,” Jim said casually. They headed toward the path and surprisingly, no one followed them.

“I like your shirt, Spock. You look great,” Jim said.

Spock remembered how Jim had complimented his clothing on Lyra 10. He wondered if his captain would once again do something… out of character… once they were alone. 

“Thank you, Spock, for back there,” Jim said softly, cocking his head toward the scene they had just left.

“Of course, Captain.”

Jim blew out a breath. “It’s never happened in a crowd like that before. It surprised me. I didn’t mean to burden you with it. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I am glad I was there. It is no burden,” Spock said gently.

Jim looked at him with a mix of disbelief and gratitude. They both knew the intensity of the mental turmoil that had seized Jim. 

“I thought being close to people, a lot of people, inoculated me somehow, but… I guess not,” Jim said. He looked very vulnerable and Spock wanted so much to help him.

“Stay close to me, Spock. Will you? I don’t know when it will happen again and I have to get through the rest of this day,” Jim said.

Spock nodded. “Then, I can assume you have rejected the option of ending your visit early and going back to the ship?” Spock asked, hoping Jim might be persuaded. 

They entered the enclave of conifer trees and the concrete path turned into damp wood chips, soft beneath their boots. The temperature seemed 10 degrees cooler under the trees. It felt good to Jim.

“I can’t do that, Spock.”

“Someone else could conduct the wreath-laying ceremony, a Denevan official, or myself. We could say you had succumbed to heat exhaustion and needed to rest,” Spock proposed. He was practiced in protecting his captain’s image. It was a good suggestion, but Jim shook his head.

“No, I want to do it, for Sam and Aurelan… and all the others I was too late to save.”

Spock was disturbed by this wording, but didn’t know what to say. Perhaps he should try the direct approach.

“Captain, you are ill and temporarily unfit for command,” Spock said bluntly.

“Temporarily? We don’t know that. Let me give my speech and honor my brother, Spock. It might be my last official act.”

“Captain, there is no reason to think your condition is permanent. Dr. McCoy has not even examined you yet. If you would allow me to meld with you, I could….”

Jim was shaking his head. This was the third time his offer of a meld had been rejected. Spock didn’t understand.

“You do not trust me,” the Vulcan said. His face was blank, but his feelings were clearly hurt.

“I do, Spock!” Jim didn’t want his friend to believe for one second that that was true. 

“Then why…?”

“I do,” he whispered and took Spock’s hand as they walked. They had the privacy here to do that and Jim wanted to take advantage of it. 

When they reached the stone bench Mrs. Nelson had described, Kirk saw the carving above it and smiled. Young love. He was glad his orphaned nephew had found someone special to care about. He wondered if they had kissed yet... or more. They still seemed like children to him, especially Lindy. Perhaps he should have a word with Peter about taking things slowly.

“This looks just like the one Sam carved for Aurelan,” Jim told Spock. “They used to go for long walks in the woods. I followed them a couple of times… to see what they did out there,” Jim said guiltily, “but they just held hands and kissed a little. Maybe they knew I was there… or maybe Aurelan didn’t like dry leaves in her hair.” Jim laughed. It felt good to remember those days.

“Aurelan was a good sister-in-law. One time she told me, ‘You Kirk boys are too handsome for your own good. Make sure you find someone who loves you, Jim.’ I was dating Janice Lester at the time. Guess Aurelan picked up some bad vibes from her.”

“Hm,” Spock said. Jim seemed totally oblivious to the fact that he was still holding Spock’s hand. The emotions Spock felt from him as he reminisced were mostly positive, but there was a darkness looming, threatening to intrude. Spock sensed it. Perhaps this physical connection was helping Jim stave it off. 

_I never found someone to love me,_ _Aurelan,_ Jim thought, _or if I did, I walked away. All of those women, and I’m still alone._

He thought of Spock. A Vulcan his age should have a bondmate. Telepaths needed that, but he’d been denied because of T’Pring’s decision. 

_He’s alone. Alone like me._

He led Spock to the cool, stone bench beneath the carving and they sat down close to one another. Jim pulled the hand he was holding into his lap and began stroking it with both of his thumbs, then with two fingers in the way he knew Vulcan intimates showed affection. There was a scene in the book Spock had re-translated where two members of Commander Spirek’s crew, starving and in need of comfort, did this with each other. The commander had yearned for his bondmate when he saw them.

“Don't say I don’t trust you, Spock,” Jim whispered earnestly. “I trust you above all others. I trust you with my life.”

Spock was reciprocating. Touching Jim’s hands this way was something he had wanted. He slid his long fingers slowly over Kirk’s knuckles and along the tops and undersides of his fingers. Jim did the same to him. Spock had so many nerve endings in his hands and they were alive with the sensual pleasure of Jim’s touch. 

“Oh, Jim,” he moaned in his rumbling baritone. _I love you,_ he thought.

Had they been melded, Jim would have been able to hear Spock’s thoughts, but as it was, he could only experience Spock’s affections in the usual human way. Spock could feel Jim’s emotions, though, and they were magnificent. They washed over him. Trust, protectiveness, love. Jim loved him. 

Jim lifted Spock’s sensitive fingers to his mouth. Spock had been staring at his lips and Jim wanted to invite him to touch if he wanted. With his right index and middle fingers Spock swept across his lips, tracing their shape as Jim sighed. “Ahhh, Spock.” _Feeling_ Jim’s lips speak his name was a powerful sensation. It pulled at his heart.

Should he kiss Kirk in the human way? Spock rubbed the backs of his knuckles gently over Jim’s sunkissed cheek. How warm Jim felt, like a Vulcan, like a mate.

“Jim,” Spock breathed. He put his free hand behind Kirk’s neck and claimed his mouth with his own. His tongue explored, probing and cataloging the sensations. Jim responded enthusiastically.

_Oh, God! I’m kissing Spock!_ Could anything in the galaxy be better than this? They had different pH levels, Jim discovered, and Spock tasted exotic and amazing, like no one he’d ever kissed before. His pants were getting tight and on impulse he slid his hand into Spock’s crotch to see if he were in a similar state. _He IS!_ Jim gulped. Perhaps Spock’s 7-year cycle could be disrupted and they could be proper lovers. The idea excited him and he began to press firmly into Spock’s bulge, kneading and probing with his hand.

The shock forced Spock back to himself enough to realize their privacy was not assured. What were they doing taking a foolish chance like this?

“Jim,” Spock said.

Jim had done this before, on Lyra, hugged him out in the open on the beach. Jim was being uncharacteristically impulsive, unwise. He’d had sexual relations with their staff psychologist on a whim, apparently, and immediately regretted it. He was experiencing debilitating mood swings. How had Spock forgotten that? He could sense a reckless desperation in Jim now, a dark need that was driving him for more contact. Spock took Jim by the shoulders and pushed him back.

“Captain, stop.”

Jim reluctantly removed his hand and looked at Spock, “What?” he panted. “Why?”

“You are not yourself, Jim. Perhaps Dr. Noel could not see that, but I can.”

So, Spock knew. 

Shame and regret came rushing into Kirk’s mind. _I love YOU, Spock, not Helen. I don’t know why I did that… or why I’m doing THIS, groping you in the forest where anyone could happen by. What is wrong with me?_

Jim crimped his eyes shut, took a couple of deep breaths, then stood up to pace. How could he explain something to Spock that he didn’t understand himself?

Spock remained seated as Jim paced. He needed the physical distance to regain his mental disciplines. He heard someone approaching. Then, Jim heard it, too.

“Ah! You found it,” Bones said when he spotted the carving on the tree. “Beautiful spot. It’s so much cooler in here, isn’t it?”

When neither of them responded, Bones took a more critical look at Jim. He was flushed and looked like he might faint.

“Wow, I think you got too much sun, Jim.” He whipped his small scanner from his pocket and ran it over Kirk’s head and down the length of his body. “How do you feel?”

“I’m fine,” Jim said.

“He is not ‘fine,’ Doctor,” Spock said, remaining seated with his hands in his lap. “He is experiencing extreme mood swings which are affecting his judgment.”

“This true, Jim?” McCoy asked, looking Kirk in the eye.

“Yes,” Jim admitted.

“Hm, well, everything reads normal,” Bones lied. His scanner had picked up the distinct signs of ebbing sexual arousal. He noted how Spock was still seated with his hands in his lap, an unusual posture for him. _What just happened here?_ McCoy wondered. 

No mental irregularities registered on his scanner, but if Spock were this concerned, that was enough for Bones.

“I think I’d better get you up to Sickbay, Jim, and get to the bottom of this,” the doctor said with authority.

Jim reluctantly agreed. He could barely look Spock in the eye as he gave him his orders: “Make my apologies, Spock. Use the heat exhaustion excuse. I’ll be back when I can.”

Spock nodded. “Yes, Captain.”

“Thank you.” He couldn’t say anything intimate to him with the doctor there, so Kirk put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. “I’m in good hands. I’ll see you soon.”

The captain and doctor beamed up, leaving Spock alone on the bench. No longer concerned that the bulge in his pants would be noticed, he stood up. His erection was still quite strong. He marveled at it and touched it through his pants. He hadn’t been erect in years. He found that it responded if he imagined his hand was _Jim’s._ No, he mustn’t. He touched his lips, remembering the taste of Jim, the feel of his hands. No wonder ladies lined up to be his lovers. Spock wondered if Jim had ever had any _male_ lovers. He didn’t know of any.

Jim’s sexual interest in him was almost certainly a symptom of his current condition, Spock decided. He had a great emotional need right now. He’d sought relief from Dr. Noel… and now him. Spock knew humans often soothed mental distress with sex. Surely that was what Jim was trying to do. He had confided that he couldn’t be alone without experiencing emptiness and anguish. 

When the problem was resolved and the captain returned to his usual self, Spock doubted they would ever have an encounter like this again. As Spock’s erection finally subsided, he took a deep breath and drank in the smell of the forest. He recorded the image of Peter’s carving for Jim, then stepped back and recorded the entire setting in detail with his tricorder… for himself. He wanted to remember. 

***

“Well, _this_ is a coincidence!” McCoy said to Helen. 

“What is?” she asked, leaning over his shoulder to see what he was reading on his office computer.

“Do you remember how the neural neutralizer story said Dr. Simon Van Gelder had retired five months ago?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Well, I wanted to contact him to see if he could help us, and guess what planet he’s calling home these days?”

“Deneva!” she read over his shoulder. “Wow, small galaxy, huh?”

“He’s just up in the mountains about 80 miles from Deneva City,” McCoy said. “Helen, will you contact him? Explain what we think happened and see if he has any idea what to do about it?”

“Yes, right away,” she said, already heading for her own office. 

Nurse Chapel peeked her head in. “Is there anything I can do, Doctor? I want to help.”

“You _are_ helping, Christine. Keep sitting with the captain. I don’t want him left alone and I’ve got some work to do here. If his mood goes south, call me.”

“Yes, Doctor,” she said. “He’s fine right now. We’re watching some highlights from the parade together. What a day you all had yesterday!”

“Yeah, those Denevans are nice folks. I tell ya, I wouldn’t mind retiring there myself someday. We just learned that Dr. Van Gelder is living there now; I sent Helen to contact him.”

“Oh, that’s fortunate,” she said, smiling. “Well, I’ll get back to the captain.”

“Good. Thank you, Nurse.”

***

Spock stayed at the picnic for another hour. Jim had very thoughtfully ordered Lt. Uhura to beam down and join him. So the two of them mingled, answered questions, and tried to make up for the captain’s early departure.

“No news is good news, I suppose,” Uhura told Spock when an hour went by and they hadn’t heard from McCoy or the captain. She seemed to know only that the captain had beamed up with heat exhaustion symptoms. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she said.

Spock nodded. 

“Lt. Uhura, do you want to try the pedal boats?” Lindy asked. 

Uhura looked hopefully at Mr. Spock for permission. “We _are_ supposed to circulate...,” she reminded him.

“Go ahead, Miss Uhura,” Spock said. “I am going to check in with the ship.”

She knew he meant ‘check on Kirk’ and smiled.

Lindy and Uhura were crossing the grass toward the pond, and Spock was just pulling out his communicator, when suddenly Dr. Noel materialized 15 feet away from him.

She hurried toward him with a worried expression. “Mr. Spock, we learned that Dr. Simon Van Gelder resides on Deneva now, so Dr. McCoy had me try to contact him. I got his wife, and she said he’s having some sort of behavioral crisis right now. She wants our help. Will you come? They live up in the mountains.” She turned and pointed to the northeast.

“Yes. Do you have the coordinates?” Spock asked.

“I do.”

She handed them to him on the small tablet she had with her and he called the transporter room. In a moment they were materializing in the Denevan mountains on Dr. and Mrs. Van Gelder’s front walkway. 

“Oh, thank you for coming!” Mrs. Van Gelder said as she rushed to greet them. She looked rattled. “He’s just in here.” She pointed to their quaint, log cabin-style home and took Helen’s arm to hurry her. “He hasn’t been himself for three days. He seems happy one moment, then anxious and despondent the next. He won’t go see the doctor, and today it’s gotten really bad! He’s saying he’s a failure and his life’s work is meaningless and things like that…”

As she led them to her husband’s study, Mrs. Van Gelder added, “Mr. Spock, I’m aware of how you helped my husband before. Can you do something like that again?”

“Perhaps. If he will allow it,” Spock said.

As the mental health professional, Helen might have felt bypassed, but she knew Mr. Spock’s skills surpassed hers in this situation.

“Simon dear, it’s Mr. Spock and Dr. Noel. Do you remember them?” Mrs. Van Gelder asked.

Van Gelder turned around in his desk chair with a big smile on his face. He was wearing his silver hair short these days, but his pock-marked face and aqua blue eyes were familiar.

“Well, what a wonderful surprise!” he said. “We saw the parade on our large screen yesterday! Beautiful! Nobody deserves a parade more than the Heroes of Deneva.”

Spock nodded in acknowledgement. 

“I was going to send Captain Kirk a message telling you all hello, but I… well, I can’t remember why I didn’t, but I guess I didn’t. How did you know I was here?” he asked, looking confused.

“Dr. McCoy learned of your presence on Deneva and wanted your advice on a psychological matter,” Spock said discreetly.

“Oh, you don’t say? Well, sure. I owe you folks one!”

“Doctor,” Spock began, “did you recently view a news story about your successor, Dr. Bruges, allowing the neural neutralizer to be reassembled?”

“What?! No. Chuck wouldn’t do that!”

“I’m afraid he did, Doctor,” Helen said. “A group wanting to make a documentary about it paid a generous sum to film it in operation.”

“My goodness!” Mrs. Van Gelder gasped. “Has that hellish machine hurt anyone else?!”

“Inconclusive,” Spock said stoically “however, we suspect that viewing a video clip of the machine in operation may have triggered a change in our captain’s personality.”

“Captain Kirk? Oh, no. What kind of change?” Van Gelder asked.

“Wild and sudden mood swings, exuberant happiness, then sudden anxiety and despair, like your wife has described in you,” Helen said. 

Spock was planning to be more vague to protect the captain’s privacy, but Dr. Noel laid it all out.

“Me?” Van Gelder said, turning to his wife defensively. “Lorna! I may have been a little on edge lately, but it’s nothing.”

“Nothing?!” she argued. “You were riding the merry-go-round with the kids at the park yesterday and wanting to sing duets from musicals with me in the kitchen... Then, you were moaning that your life’s work was meaningless and talking about all of our friends who had died. It really scared me, Simon. You were positively maudlin! The change was so abrupt and unlike you. And there were two other times…”

“Doctor,” Spock said. “Where do you typically read news stories?”

“Why, right here at my desk,” Van Gelder said.

“May I check your computer to verify that you haven’t read the story about the neural neutralizer?” Spock asked.

Van Gelder knitted his brows in the manner of an honest man being disbelieved. “I told you I didn’t read it.”

“Our captain also believed he did not view the story or watch the video, but computer records confirm that he _did_ ,” Spock explained.

“Oh, goodness,” Mrs. Van Gelder said. “Let him check, Simon.”

“Of course. Go ahead,” Dr. Van Gelder agreed, vacating his desk chair for Spock.

Spock’s fingers flew across the keys and he quickly zeroed in on his target. Yes, Dr. Van Gelder had watched the video. He reported his findings to the group.

“Hm, well, I’ll be,” Van Gelder said sadly. “Dr. Adams is still torturing me from the grave.”

Lorna put her arm around her husband and hugged him. “Well, it will be all right now, Simon. Mr. Spock has figured it out.” She turned toward Spock. “Can you help him… and your captain... like you did last time, Mr. Spock?” the lady asked. “Is it like a relapse or something?”

“I was hoping the doctor could help me make that determination,” Spock said, turning to Simon. He knew from the mind meld he had performed on Van Gelder to save his sanity four years ago that the doctor was very intelligent. 

Van Gelder considered. “Millions of people all over Federation Space would have viewed that video since the news story came out, yet no one is reporting mass mood disorders. I think viewing the neural neutralizer may only affect those already conditioned by it.”

Spock, of course, had already had that thought.

“Yes,” Dr. Noel said. “I watched the video. So did Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy, and none of us were affected… but _we_ never sat in that treatment room like you and the captain did.”

“Blast Dr. Adams’ twisted ego! ...and Dr. Bruges’ greedy little soul!” Van Gelder erupted suddenly. “Stripping people’s minds and reprogramming them like they were playthings! Fragile, sick people who needed our help. Making them lose themselves in despair and emptiness!” A sob broke out of the doctor and he sprang up and began wringing his hands. 

“Oh, Simon dear…” said his worried wife.

“Do you know how long it took to mend those minds afterward, Lorna? Vulcan sent healers to help, but still, it took months! All of those beautiful, damaged minds… emptied of their personalities, their uniqueness ripped from them. Empty and alone, so alone!” Van Gelder began to sob uncontrollably. 

Mrs. Van Gelder looked to Mr. Spock in a silent plea for help.

“...and now, any of them who watched that video will have to endure it all AGAIN!” Van Gelder shouted. “It will drive them mad… or to suicide! We have to warn them! Oh, we have to warn them!!” He grabbed for the computer keyboard.

Spock stood up and Van Gelder sat down in the desk chair, desperate to make contact with all of the patients who could be affected, but then he stalled out. Shaking and breathing hard, his eyes darted around the room randomly.

“Doctor, do you have a list of all victims of Dr. Adams’ neural neutralizer?” Spock asked calmly. He agreed with the need to contact them immediately. He had already mentally composed what the message should say.

“Yes, but the list is encrypted and I can’t remember the code to open it! I CAN’T REMEMBER THE CODE!” Van Gelder was near panicked. “What good am I? They’re all going to die, and I should, too!”

Helen’s face reflected her grave concern and Lorna’s was white as milk.

“I let Adams torture our patients. I had misgivings about that device, but he was my boss and I was too weak to cross him... too WEAK! Aaaagh!” Van Gelder reached into his desk drawer and grabbed out an old-style letter opener.

“Simon, NO!!” Mrs. Van Gelder shrieked. 

In Dr. Noel’s opinion, he was seconds from stabbing himself. “Spock, stop him!” she shouted.

Spock was already in motion. He grabbed the knife-wielding wrist in one strong hand and handily delivered a neck pinch to his opposite side. The doctor fell limp into Spock’s arms, the letter opener clanking to the wooden floor.

“Oh, thank God! Oh, Simon,” Lorna wailed, rushing up to him.

“It’s all right now, Mrs. Van Gelder,” Helen comforted. 

Spock lay the unconscious man on the leather couch by his desk. He was already considering other ways to get the list of patients if he could not break the encryption himself… and he was thinking about the captain. Van Gelder’s conditioning had been different from Kirk’s. Could _Jim_ be driven to suicide?

_Stay near me_ , Jim had asked. But he wasn’t near him, was he? Spock’s desire to beam up to the Enterprise was strong, but instead, he decided to send Dr. Noel to report. He felt morally obliged to stay with the man he had just rendered unconscious and prepare for a mind meld when he woke.

Spock gave Dr. Noel orders to report to the captain and Dr. McCoy and ensure a warning message was sent to all former patients of Dr. Adams, if the ship’s resources were able to locate them. Spock would work on the encryptions and advise them if he came up with a list first.

After Helen beamed up, Mrs. Van Gelder asked, “Can you help him, Mr. Spock? Meld with him?”

“I will try when he wakes, provided he is amenable.”

“Oh, he will be. Thank you,” she said gratefully. 

Spock knew if he expended his energy melding with Van Gelder, he would be unable to offer the captain a meld for several hours, but Van Gelder’s need seemed greater. The captain was under the watchful eye of Dr. McCoy in Sickbay and once he knew that suicide was a risk, he surely would not let Jim out of his sight.


	6. Chapter 6

Helen strode into Sickbay with purpose, intent on delivering her urgent report with speed and efficiency, but when the captain saw her, he gasped, “Oh, Helen! You’ve come.” Surprising Nurse Chapel, he reached out for Dr. Noel from his bed. “This isn’t what it looks like, Helen darling. Christine and I were just talking.” He was still reaching for her, wanting her to take his hands. “You believe me, don’t you?” Jim asked, starting to become upset.

In light of what she had just witnessed at the Van Gelders’ home, Helen decided it was best to keep him calm if she could.

“Of course, I believe you, Captain,” she said with a smile, taking his outstretched hands. “I have something very important to tell you, a report from Mr. Spock.”

_Spock_. Jim remembered holding Spock’s hands, touching him, kissing him in the forest. He let go of Helen’s hands, suddenly confused.

“Helen,” Bones beckoned from around his office door, “perhaps in here.”

“All right, Leonard,” she said. 

Kirk seemed content to let her go now, so she followed McCoy into his office.

Christine didn’t understand what that was about, but it was clear Dr. McCoy didn’t feel Kirk was able to receive the briefing. The captain had been smiling and enjoying himself a moment ago, watching a Denevan newscast with her, so she tried to direct her patient back to that.

“Look, Captain,” Christine said, pointing at the screen on the arm of his biobed, “here’s the part at the reception where Spock says all those nice things about your leadership.”

Jim smiled and leaned forward. Spock was mesmerizing in his blue dress shirt, his back ramrod straight, his stoic expression belying the deep emotions Jim knew the Vulcan felt. He listened to the well-crafted words of praise his friend was graciously offering. His other officers were shown nodding in agreement. As Spock stepped down from the dias, Kirk rose and clasped his elbow like he often did to show friendship without touching Spock’s sensitive hands.

Jim thought about how Spock had allowed his hands to be touched in the woods. _He liked how I touched him. He kissed me. He was hard for me,_ Jim remembered with amazement. 

“Christine,” McCoy called. “Can you come in here for a minute?”

“Yes, Doctor,” she called. “I’ll be right back, Captain.”

_Spock is down there right now filling in for me. I should get down there,_ Jim thought, not realizing Spock was no longer at the picnic _. None of Bones’ tests showed anything wrong with me. What am I still doing here?_

Jim swung the screen arm away and jumped down. He went to McCoy’s office, but no one was in there. 

“Bones?” he called. “Nurse?”He decided they must be in the lab or Dr. Noel’s office. Well, he wouldn’t disturb them. He was still in his picnic clothes, so he slipped his boots back on and headed for the transporter room.

He materialized on the lawn by the lake, but as the transporter tech had said, there were only a few people there now. The picnic tables had been stowed and all of the colorful pedal boats were moored and covered.

_Oh no, I’ve missed it all. Where is Spock?_ For some reason, he thought Spock might be in the woods where he’d left him, sitting on the stone bench waiting for him to come back. Jim ran down the path and into the grove of trees. 

When he saw the empty bench, disappointment fell heavy on him. He sat down and reached for his communicator to call Spock, but it was missing from his belt. _Damn! I left it in Sickbay. Now Spock will never find me and I can’t call the ship._

To his disturbed mind, the problem seemed insurmountable. _Find me, Spock. Please find me!_ He closed his eyes and hugged himself tightly, imagining it was _Spock’s_ embrace. Jim closed his eyes and replayed the memory of sitting here with Spock, the taste of Spock’s tongue pushing into his mouth and the feel of his erection under his hand. _Oh,_ he groaned. _Spock, I want to be the best lover you’ve ever had._ Then he realized, he would probably be Spock’s first lover. You could never be sure with Spock, but Kirk got the impression that things never went further than kissing and a bit of groping with either Leila or Zarabeth. He knew for sure that nothing was consummated with T’Pring.

_I’ll be his first,_ Jim thought. _First and only._

He traced his nephew’s carving on the tree, imagining that it said “Jim + Spock.” _That has been one successful equation. Spock completes me in a way no one else can… not Helen… no one._ He stood up and pushed back farther into the forest along the wood-chipped path. It was shady and mysterious and thoughts of Spock were giving him such comfort now. He felt like exploring. Perhaps Spock was waiting for him deeper in the woods.

He followed the path until the trees opened onto a clearing. It was a cliffside park overlooking the ocean. Not really a park, per se, but a scenic viewing area with several benches facing west out over the sea. No one else was in view. Jim sat on a bench, but immediately sprang up. He wanted to get as close as he could to the edge and look down.

There were short safety fences clearly marking how close to the edge was _too_ close, and Kirk stayed obediently behind them. The sea breeze was salty and fresh in his face and seabirds wafted on the updraughs below him. He thought how lovely it would be here at sunset. He imagined himself and Spock sitting on one of these benches, holding hands and watching the sunset until it began to fade, then trekking back to their cozy private house to share a meal and make love slowly for hours. _Spock._ Jim’s heart felt so full. Even though Spock wasn’t there, it felt like he _was…_ like he would always be there. The feeling was one of the best he’d ever had.

Jim decided to sit down again and wait for the sunset. It would be a long wait, since it was only mid-afternoon, but he couldn’t think of anything else he ought to be doing… until suddenly he DID.

_Oh! The wreath-laying!_ _How could I have forgotten about that?_ Since he didn’t have his communicator with him, he didn’t know precisely what time it was, but the ceremony began at 17:00 and it seemed like it might be as late as 16:00 right now. _I’d better get going._

He remembered he’d left a dress uniform in Peter’s guest room. _I better get back there and change._ He looked lovingly at the gray stone bench and the tree carving as he passed by them again and hurried back out to the green space and across it to Peter’s house. 

He spotted Lt. Uhura and three teens on Peter’s back patio, playing a game that looked like ping pong. He smiled at the scene.

“Uncle Jim!”

“Captain,” Uhura greeted him, smiling.

“You’re back!” Derek said. “Mr. Spock told us you got too much sun. Are you better now?”

Jim nodded. “Dr. McCoy gave me the once-over and couldn’t find anything wrong with me,” he said honestly. “Uhura, what time is it? I left my communicator in Sickbay.”

“16:20, Sir,” she answered.

“Peter, are your folks planning to beam or drive to the wreath-laying?” Jim asked.

“Drive,” Peter replied. 

“Is there room for me, if I wanted to go with you?” Kirk asked.

“Sure! We can seat six and would be proud to bring the guest of honor!”

“Okay then. That’s what we’ll do,” Jim said, ruffling his nephew’s hair. 

“Lindy’s gonna go with her parents…”

“...and I need to go up to the ship to dress,” Uhura said, “so I’ll be beaming from there.”

“Before you go, Lieutenant, may I borrow your communicator?”

“Of course, Sir,” she said, handing it over.

“By the way, where is Spock?” Jim asked anyone who might know.

Lindy answered. “My mom told us a lady in a blue Starfleet uniform beamed down about an hour ago, talked to him for a moment, then they beamed back to the ship together… or they beamed _somewhere_. Mom didn’t know, but he didn’t come back.”

“Hm, well let’s see where he is,” Jim said, whipping Uhura’s communicator open. “Kirk to Spock. Come in, Spock.” 

Nothing.

“Spock? Come in.”

Again nothing. _That’s strange,_ Jim thought, concern starting to bloom.

Then, finally… an answer. “Captain Kirk? Am I using this thing right? This is Mrs. Simon Van Gelder.”

Kirk was at a loss. “Mrs. Van Gelder? Where is Mr. Spock?”

“He’s performing a mind meld on my husband and didn’t seem to notice his communicator device beeping. Since it was you, I thought I’d better answer,” Lorna explained.

“I didn’t know Dr. Van Gelder lived on Deneva now,” Jim said.

“Yes, we’ve been here for about five months, since he retired.”

“Why is Spock mind melding with him?” 

“My husband saw the video and is suffering from the same affliction as you, Captain. Things got really bad today and Simon tried to…”

The teens and Uhura were looking puzzled at the mention of the captain’s ‘affliction,’ so he decided to walk out of earshot, covering the speaker with his hand.

“...so after he woke from the neck pinch, Mr. Spock began a mind meld with him. I’m in the other room now, so I won’t disturb them. I don’t know how long it will take. Do you need me to give Mr. Spock a message when he is able to receive it?” Mrs. Van Gelder asked.

“Yes,” Kirk said. “Tell him I will be conducting the wreath-laying ceremony at the memorial cemetery as planned and to meet me there when he is able.” Then Jim remembered how draining melds sometimes were for Spock and he added, “...or, tell him he’s free to go back to the ship and rest if that’s what he needs to do.”

“Very well, Captain,” she said.

“My best wishes to your husband,” Jim said.

“Your condition is not as serious, then, I assume,” Lorna said. “Or has Mr. Spock already melded with you?”

“No, he hasn’t,” Jim answered.

“Do be careful, then, Captain. These mood swings can be awfully sudden and so dangerous,” she said.

Jim appreciated her concern, but he was feeling fine. He wanted to quickly call McCoy before he had to go get dressed.

“Thank you, Mrs. Van Gelder. I need to go now.”

“Goodbye, Captain. Take care.”

“Kirk to Dr. McCoy. Captain Kirk to Dr. M…”

“Jim! Thank God! Where the hell are you?!”

“I’m the hell at Peter’s house,” Jim joked. “What’s with the non-child-friendly language, Chief Medical Officer?” he scolded. He’d been heading back over to the group, but veered off when he heard McCoy’s tone.

“How’d you get outta here?” Bones asked.

“Just walked out,” Jim said innocently.

“Listen, Jim. You need to come back to the ship right now. Some of the people who’ve watched that video of the neural neutralizer, the ones who were conditioned by it four years ago, could be at risk for...”

“Bones, I’ve got the wreath-laying in 30 minutes, remember? The Nelsons are driving me over. Meet me there and we can talk then. I’ve gotta get dressed.”

“No, Jim…”

“Oh, and bring my communicator, will you? I’m using Uhura’s. Thanks. Kirk out.” Jim snapped the communicator closed and walked it over to Uhura, who called for a beam up.

“Thanks for the fun, kids,” Uhura said.

“It was great meeting you!” Peter answered for all of them.

“Lindy and Lt. Uhura beat us boys 3 games to 1,” Derek said to the captain with a mock pout.

“...and had a good time doing it,” Uhura said, shooting a wink at Lindy. She stepped away from the small group and positioned herself for beam out. The kids waved as the transporter beam grabbed her.

“That is so cool,” Lindy said. It wasn’t typical to see people beaming around on Deneva. Matter-to-energy transfer consumed a lot of power and it was used mainly for emergencies. Beaming up for their Enterprise tour was only the 3rd or 4th time Lindy had ever had her atoms disassembled. It was a thrill for all of them.

“I’m going inside to change clothes,” Kirk announced.

“Okay,” Peter said. 

“See you at the cemetery,” Lindy said. Peter gave his girlfriend a kiss on the cheek and she headed home. Then, Derek and Peter followed Jim inside. 

“Oh, Captain. You’re back,” Mr. Nelson said when he saw him.

“I left my dress uniform here,” Jim explained.

“He wants to ride with us to the ceremony, Dad,” Peter said. “It’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes! Sure,” Mr. Nelson said. He had already changed for the evening and was looking spiffy in a long sleeved shirt with a slight sheen. It was plum-colored at the collar and became dark grey at the cuffs. 

“You look great, Dad,” Derek said.

“Thanks, son. Go get changed, boys.”

Jim dressed in the guest room as swiftly as possible. He felt fine, but the anxiety he’d experienced there last night still haunted him. He couldn’t allow a mood like that to seize him again. He fought it off and struggled to get his neck clasp fastened as quickly as he could. 

He had only a few more hours on Deneva, then Spock could help him through this back on the ship. Jim figured Spock must know what to do, if he had launched into a meld with Van Gelder. Jim felt a stab of jealousy that Van Gelder was enjoying Spock’s ministrations right now instead of him. 

_Why did I keep refusing Spock’s help? That was foolish._ Jim no longer minded that Spock would see his sexual thoughts. He _wanted_ him to see. He now believed Spock would be _aroused_ by them, not repelled. _I hope he melds with me unshielded, so I can see all of his thoughts, too, feel his emotions._ They had never done that.

Instead of dreading Spock’s help, Jim began to look forward to it. Spock in his mind, perhaps in his bed, driving out this recurring emptiness, filling him in every way. His body tingled at the thought of it. 

_Okay, better stop thinking about that right now,_ Jim warned himself. 

He stepped out of the guest room. The others were ready to go.

“Wow,” whispered Mrs. Nelson under her breath.

“Sarah,” Mr. Nelson scolded quietly, then smiled forgivingly at her. He could hardly blame her for recognizing what all of Deneva knew: Captain Kirk in his dress uniform was a strapping sight.

Mr. Nelson pulled the car out of the garage and everyone piled in. Mrs. Nelson wanted to give Jim her seat in the front, but he wouldn’t have it. He gladly sat in the back with the two boys.

Public transportation systems existed on Deneva, but the population overwhelmingly preferred their private vehicles. Denevans valued freedom and autonomy. No politician had ever sold them on mass transit. Jim liked it.

As the hover car glided along on the way to the cemetery, Peter asked, “What are you going to say, Uncle Jim? Do you have a speech written down?”

“Yes,” Kirk answered. He had been going over it in his head. The organizers would have it for him on an electronic prompter, but he was practicing what he could remember anyway. 

“Are you going to say anything particular about my dad, or just the colonists who died in general?” Peter asked.

Jim was unsure why he was asking. 

“Pete thinks he’ll cry if you talk about his dad too long,” Derek blurted.

“Derek!” Peter said. “Shut up, dum dum.”

“Well, it’s true!” Derek defended.

Jim looked at his embarrassed nephew kindly and patted his hand. “You know, I worried about the same thing when I was writing the speech. I’ve been getting emotional lately when I think about Sam, and how I was too late to save him….”

Jim trailed off and looked out the window at the passing countryside. The boys were quiet, not sure what to say.

“I saved a million people, but I couldn’t save my own brother and sister-in-law,” he said, still looking out the window. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“You saved _me_ ,” Peter said, laying his hand on his uncle’s knee.

Jim turned then and looked at him. “You’re a fine young man, Peter. Your parents would be proud. _I’m_ proud of you.” Kirk offered that golden smile of his that made anyone on the receiving end feel special. “...and if you cry when I mention your father, well so be it.”

Peter sighed and relaxed. “Okay,” he said.

***

The speech _was_ emotional. A lot of people were crying. Most of the audience were families of the fallen. McCoy sat worrying what effect making this speech was having on Jim. It couldn’t be easy for him under the best of circumstances, and _this_ was not the best of circumstances.

Spock was missing the speech. The mind meld with Van Gelder had exhausted him. He’d been thorough and meticulous, slipping from the doctor’s mind only when he was content that the man was no longer at risk from suicidal impulses and his normal thought patterns had been restored.

_Blasted Vulcan! Where IS he?_ McCoy stewed. Jim was at risk and needed Spock here. Perhaps he was trying to call, but communicators were all turned off out of respect for the proceedings.

Peter was called up, as he had been told he would be, to help Jim lay the wreaths on his parents’ graves. As they positioned them, they both had tears in their eyes.

“This is so beautiful,” Lindy sniffed from the row behind the Nelsons. She leaned forward to pat their shoulders and Mrs. Nelson handed her a tissue from her purse.

McCoy was sitting on a special podium with Scotty and a conspicuously empty chair where Spock was supposed to be. Jim kept glancing up to see if he had arrived. The junior officers were seated with the guests. 

The memorial cemetery was high on a bluff overlooking the ocean, like all the coastal sites on this continent were. Bones and Scotty had enjoyed a splendid view. At 18:15, the sun was just setting and the clouds, far out to sea, were turning from white to pastel pink. Two of Deneva’s three moons loomed large in the evening sky.

Governor Coffman concluded the ceremony with a few remarks, then the families were invited to come up and lay their flowers or mementos on their loved ones’ graves. People began to mill about.

Jim was walking toward Scotty and McCoy when Governor Coffman grabbed him cordially by the arm, wanting to introduce him to someone.

“Captain, you remember our master sculptor, Mr. Felsing.”

“Of course,” Kirk said politely, shaking the man’s hand. They had met at the luncheon reception yesterday. The governor turned back to other guests who were wanting his attention.

Mr. Felsing’s mood didn’t appear to fit the occasion. He seemed to be bubbling with barely-contained excitement.

“Captain, I’ve had a new idea! I’ll still do your statue as we discussed, but there’s another project I want to take on as well!” The man was certainly not short on enthusiasm. He bounced on his heels and toes. “Can I show you? Will you come over and take a look?”

Jim looked the direction the sculptor was indicating, but there was just an empty meadow leading up to the cliff. “Where?” Jim asked.

Mr. Felsing smiled exuberantly and hooked his arm through Kirk’s, obviously taking this as an agreement to go with him. “Hurry. The lighting is just perfect right now.” 

Jim began walking with the man, but noticed McCoy up on the podium, holding out his communicator. The doctor hadn’t had the chance yet to give it back to him… and Kirk wanted to call Spock.

“Mr. Felsing, if I could just…” Jim began, but the man wasn’t having it. He kept walking with his arm through Kirk’s, chattering a mile a minute.

“...and that gave me the idea! You’re from Iowa, Captain. Are you familiar with the Black Hills of South Dakota and the monument called Mount Rushmore?” Mr. Felsing asked.

This grabbed Jim’s attention. He had gone there a few times as a boy. “Why, yes,” he said. “I’ve seen it in person.”

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” the sculptor said. “Such an undertaking, the mind reels! Did you know, Captain, that _two_ of those six American Presidents were added later? The original sculptor, Gutzon Borglum, only did _four._ ” 

“Yes, I’ve seen old pictures,” Jim said, allowing himself to be led by the enthusiastic man. 

“When I saw the four of you at the reception, how close you are with your senior officers, how interconnected… well, I knew right then that a single statue of the Hero of Deneva would not suffice, and I got _this_ idea!” He stopped near the edge of the cliff and gestured. There was a majestic promontory point jutting out into the ocean, forming a beachless bay.

“That rockface!” Felsing exclaimed. “That’s where I want to do it, sculpt the four of you in relief!”

Jim was stunned. Like all the cliffs around this elevated continent, the rock face was about 80 feet high and gleamed whitish gray with a quartz-like sparkle, turning golden in the sunset.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Jim struggled, staring across the bay.

“It’s the perfect location. It will take a lot of equipment and manpower. It’s not easy to get a permit for foreign workers on Deneva, but for an undertaking of this magnitude and significance, I’m sure exceptions can be made. Even with dozens of skilled quarrymen and explosives experts, it likely won’t be finished for five or six years, but I know I can do it! Just like Gutzon Borglum! It will be my magnum opus.” 

The man was positively giddy telling the captain about his ambitious idea. Mr. Felsing had been all business before when they first met to discuss plans for a statue. Jim had balked a bit at the idea, but agreed, if that’s what the Denevans wanted. Now, Felsing was clearly on an artist’s creative high, and his enthusiasm was contagious. Jim loved the idea of his friends being included, the four of them up there together for centuries. He pictured it in his mind and wondered if it was similar to what Mr. Felsing pictured. Everyone said Felsing was the best. _Let’s let the man have his opus,_ Kirk thought.

“All right, Mr. Felsing,” Jim said. “You can tell the powers-that-be that I approve. Do your darnedest.”

The man looked euphoric. “Oh, thank you, Captain! Thank you! You won’t be sorry. I’ll capture that handsome face of yours… and Mr. Spock’s ears will be perfect, I promise!” He practically skipped across the meadow back to the venue to tell the governor and mayor.

Jim smiled. He looked back across the bay to the wall that would bear his face. He pictured what Spock’s face would look like. Spock’s chiseled face already looked made of granite. He chuckled to himself. Hopefully future generations of Denevans would know how warm and kind Spock really was, how moral and selfless.

The cliff face was glowing orange now and Jim glanced back up at the sunset. The sun had been down for 20 minutes and the colors were incredible. They seemed to light up the moons in every vibrant shade of orange, gold, mauve, and pink. It was magnificent. Jim stood alone on the edge of the cliff staring at the brilliant colors reflected in the water below. The churning sea was a deep purple-blue and the foamy crests of waves picked up the warm colors of the sky. They lapped against the base of the cliff face in a lively dance that was very pleasing to the eye. Looking at the wall the sculptor had chosen, Jim pictured himself and his friends enjoying 100,000 sunsets together, watching over Deneva, being adored and revered as the colony grew to tens of millions.

He wanted his friends by his side _now,_ or his nephew, but they all seemed occupied at the cemetery. He wished he had his communicator. Talking to Spock right now would feel so good, that rich baritone in his ears while this gorgeous sunset dazzled his eyes. Oh, that would be bliss. He imagined Spock with his arms around him, holding him, kissing him. His eyes fluttered closed and he lost himself in a sexual fantasy. _Spock wants me. He was aroused by me._ This piece of information fueled his fantasy like nothing else could. This could really happen _. Me and Spock, together._

He sighed and opened his eyes. A bit of color had drained from the sunset. It was sad to see such a radiant, perfect thing die. It felt to him like that’s what was happening. The life, the fire, was dying. He watched as the clouds crept across the horizon, their colors going from pink to purple to lifeless gray. He wanted to look back over at the wall, but his eyes wouldn’t move. He knew what he would see: darkness. The sparkling golden-white wall would be in shadow, growing darker by the minute. How could he let his friends be put on a wall like _that_? A wall of deceptive beauty that could turn so quickly to dead gray.

He thought of what McCoy had said at the picnic, how tides of opinion could turn. An image shot through his mind like black lightning: Mr. Felsing’s beautiful opus vandalized, smashed to rubble by some future generation’s rage.

What were a few golden moments in the sun, compared to the long, dark nights ahead? What if Spock _did_ want him, _did_ love him? It would only be for a little while like the sunset. Just an ephemeral burst of color and beauty that could never last. He and Spock weren’t stone; they were mortal, their lives fleeting. Jim remembered his nightmare where he had Spock, had him so completely, but then he was gone in an instant, and the pain and emptiness were unbearable. 

He felt that pain again now. All of the people he had loved over his lifetime were gone. He thought of the women from his dream, how they despised him. He’d had such bright moments with them, then hurt them all deeply without intending to. Would he do the same to Spock? Would he use up Spock’s love and leave him desolate and bitter? Anguish seized his heart. _Help me, Spock. Where are you?_

***

“Simon? Simon, dear?” Lorna whispered tenderly to her husband as he began to stir. “Oh, Mr. Spock! He’s waking up,” she called down the hall.

Spock had been lying down on a bed in the Van Gelders’ guest room since completing the mind meld. Dr. Van Gelder’s mind had been in such disarray, his emotions roiling so unpredictably… it had been taxing. Spock had to admit to himself that he could not attend the event at the cemetery. Lorna relayed the captain’s message that he could bow out if need be. Spock wanted to get to him, make sure he was safe from himself, but he was forced to trust Dr. McCoy to do that.

He got up slowly and walked to the couch where he’d left Van Gelder sleeping after the meld.

“How are you feeling, Doctor?” Spock asked.

Van Gelder smiled. “Really good. Thank you, Mr. Spock.”

Spock nodded. He had shielded throughout the meld, so Van Gelder had little or no contact with his emotions. He sensed Spock only as a stabilizing force, a kind, competent person willing to help. It was always a strain for Spock, having that wall up. He wouldn’t have to do that with Jim. If Jim chose to let Spock help him with a meld, he’d already decided to let his captain see everything, expose every corner of his mind and emotions to Jim. He had always ached to do that, share himself, let another person know him completely. He knew Jim was the person with whom he wanted to share himself. 

Now that Spock had seen the exact ways Dr. Van Gelder’s mind had been damaged by the brief glimpse of the neural neutralizer in the video, he felt confident that he could help Jim recover, too. Every mind was different and the original conditioning Van Gelder had received wasn’t the same as the torture Dr. Adams inflicted on Jim, but Spock felt like he had a good idea where to start with Jim’s healing.

Van Gelder stretched and stood up, embracing his wife. “I’m so sorry I scared you, Honey,” he said.

“It’s not your fault at all. Mr. Spock explained everything.” They hugged and then the doctor got up and moved to his desk chair.

“I remember the encryption codes now for my patient list,” he said to Spock, “or did you already take them from my mind?”

“I did not,” Spock said, “but the Enterprise’s computer was able to locate and contact all Tantalus patients present during Dr. Adams’ tenure there.”

“Oh. Okay, good,” Van Gelder said. “Then, they’ve all been warned?”

“Yes,” said Spock.

The doctor leaned back in his chair and began perusing some news story headlines. Then, his face fell and the corners of his mouth started to quiver.

“Oh, no,” Van Gelder whispered.

His wife, who was looking at the screen over his shoulder gasped and said, “Oh, Simon. I’m so sorry.”

Spock moved closer to the screen to see the headline they were reading:

16 DEAD BY SUICIDE. ALL FORMER PATIENTS OF TANTALUS V PENAL COLONY.

“Will you be all right, Dr. Van Gelder?” Spock asked. “I need to check on the captain.”

“Get to him, Mr. Spock,” Van Gelder said forcefully. “Get to him right away. Captain Kirk has a strong mind, but so do I, and look what it did to _me.”_

Spock reached for his communicator, but just as he was about to flip it open and call Jim, it went off with Bones’ strained voice.

“McCoy to Spock. McCoy to Spock.” 

Bones was standing next to a very nervous Dr. Noel, who had just beamed down from the ship to show him the news story about the suicides.

“Spock here, Doctor.”

“Spock! You still with the Van Gelders?” McCoy asked.

“Yes.”

“We’ve got a situation here. I’m at the cemetery and I’ve lost track of Jim. The ceremony is over and he was walking with that sculptor fella, but I didn’t see where they went… and Helen just beamed down and told me some news: Sixteen former patients of Dr. Adams’ have killed themselves!” 

“I have just seen that headline,” Spock said.

“Hopefully, we saved the others by alerting them in time, but SIXTEEN, Spock! We’ve gotta find Jim. Let me climb back on this podium and see if I can have a better look around,” McCoy said, as he scaled the five steps to get his head above the crowd. He scanned the area.

“Oh, God,” he whispered. 

Spock’s blood ran cold. “What is it, Doctor?”

“Jim!!” Bones shouted. “Spock, he’s by himself right on the cliff! He’s too far away to hear me. He’s right on the edge!”

The Van Gelders listened in horror.

Spock switched channels, “Spock to transporter room. Emergency. Beam the captain to my location immediately.”

“Y-yes, Sir,” a surprised transporter tech said. He located the captain’s communicator signal and had it locked into his console in three seconds.

Bones scrambled down off the platform and began running towards Jim. Helen was already halfway there. As they ran, Helen looked back over her shoulder just in time to see McCoy vanish in a shower of gold.

_What?!_ she gaped. She turned her eyes back to the lone figure at the edge of the cliff and continued toward him.

***

“What the devil, Spock!” Bones erupted when he materialized in the Van Gelders’ study, forward momentum propelling him into Mrs. Van Gelder. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said to her, making sure she was all right.

Spock was at a loss. “Transporter room…” he began into his communicator.

Then McCoy put two and two together.

“Spock, I have his communicator!” Bones ripped his own off his belt and pulled Jim’s out of his pocket to hold both out as quick visual proof. Spock understood immediately. All Starfleet communicators had individual signals… the transporter controls had mistaken Bones for Jim. Without his communicator on his belt, Jim couldn’t be rescued by transporter.

“Beam Dr. McCoy and myself to the Deneva City Memorial Cemetery. Immediately,” Spock ordered the tech.

“Yes, Sir.”

The Van Gelders stood back as Spock and McCoy dematerialized. 

“Where is he, Doctor?” Spock asked once they arrived at the cemetery.

“He was THERE,” McCoy pointed, but the skyline no longer showed the silhouette of a figure on the cliff's edge. Bones’ heart was in his throat. “Helen!” he shouted.

“Here, Doctor,” she said from behind them with a calm, lilting voice.

They spun to see her arm in arm with the captain, looking very much his confident, charming self.

“Gentlemen,” Jim greeted with a warm smile. “You just missed a great sunset, Spock. Wasn’t it, Bones?” Jim smiled as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Uh, yeah, it was… it was good,” McCoy agreed. He wasn’t sure what to say, but definitely didn’t want to upset Jim. He was so relieved.

Spock had clasped his hands behind his back to prevent himself from reaching out for Jim. His face showed no outward signs of either distress or relief… or at least he didn’t think so.

Jim cocked his head as he pulled Helen closer to his side. “You two all right?” he asked his friends.

“Well… we were just concerned that…” McCoy began, before Helen stopped him with a barely perceptible shake of her head.

“Jim, dear, it’s getting a little chilly for me, can we go back to the ship?” she asked.

Jim turned to her with his full attention. “Of course, darling. Anything you want,” he said softly, love in his eyes. He wrapped a protective arm around her and rubbed her arm for warmth. 

“Better?” he asked.

She smiled and nodded. He kissed her cheek and she let him. 

“Oh, I left a small bag with my things in it over on the podium. It’s blue. Would you be a dear and fetch it for me, Jim?” Helen cooed. The podium was about 60 feet away.

“Of course. I’ll be right back, then we can go get you warmed up,” Jim said, slightly suggestively, as he set off.

Helen’s demeanor changed immediately after he left. She leaned in toward Bones and Spock to brief them. 

“He’s not okay. We’ve got to get him up to the ship. He’s back to thinking he’s in love with me. I played along and it got him off the cliff, but he’s not okay. You should’ve seen his face. He can change so quickly.”

“You have to help him, Spock,” Bones said, “like you helped Van Gelder. You were able to help him, right?”

“Yes,” Spock replied, “but the captain, thus far, has been unwilling to allow…”

“Blast whether he’s willing or not! I’ve done every test I know to do on him and I can’t help him. It’s up to you, Spock.”

“I cannot force a meld on him. He has to agree to it,” Spock said.

McCoy blew out a breath. Jim was heading back their way now.

“Stubborn Vulcan,” McCoy mumbled. “Do you have any idea what’s making him so gun shy about melding with you? He’s done it before for Heaven’s sakes.”

Spock had an idea, yes, but he didn’t relish sharing it with the doctors.

Helen had a plan. “I’ll lure him to my quarters, then we’ll have some privacy… I mean _you’ll_ have some privacy, Sir,” she said to Spock. “I’ll make myself scarce and you can meld with him there,” she said.

McCoy was nodding like he thought it was a good plan, but Spock wasn’t convinced.

Helen continued, “I think he’ll be reminded of his last time in my quarters… and how that ended.” She glanced away, ashamed at how she had treated him. “That should shake him up and convince him he needs your help, Mr. Spock.”

They had to get this right. The captain had suffered enough.

“Talking about me?” Jim said with a sly smile as he returned. A few people had delayed him with thanks and praise for his speech. “Ready to go?” he asked the group as he reached for his communicator. It wasn’t there. _That’s odd,_ he thought.

“Oh, here you go, Jim,” Bones said, quickly handing over his missing communicator.

Jim looked puzzled, then concerned, like dozens of thoughts were competing for his attention. He remembered being in Sickbay. _Bones was running tests on me for something, but I left… without my communicator… to look for Spock in the forest._ He glanced up at Spock. He saw worry there.

“Uncle Jim!” Peter called from behind him. “Gee, your speech was swell. You made my dad sound like a bigger hero than _you_.”

“The people who died resisting the invasion and fighting to protect others _are_ the bigger heroes, Peter,” Jim said. “All of them.” He gestured with his head to the neat rows of white grave markers 100 feet or so away.

Peter nodded. He noticed that Jim’s arm was around his pretty crewman’s waist. Did his uncle have a girlfriend? He hadn’t mentioned it.

“Peter, have you met Dr. Noel? She’s my… staff psychologist,” Jim said, wondering why he was holding her like that. “She’s getting chilly in this breeze,” he justified.

“Hi Dr. Noel. Nice to meet you,” the teen said politely. “Yeah, it can get cold here at night in the spring. Can you come back to the house with us, Uncle Jim? Or do you need to go up to the Enterprise?” 

“We’re gonna beam up now, I think. I’ll come down tomorrow morning and we can say our goodbyes then. How’s that?”

Peter frowned. “I have school.” 

“Well, then, I guess this is farewell,” Kirk said.

“Your visit sure has been great. I wish you could stay longer,” the boy said.

“Me, too. I hope it won’t be three more years until I get back here,” Jim said sincerely. “Tell your family thanks for the hospitality. They’re terrific people.”

“Will do.”

“...and Lindy’s a gem,” Jim winked approvingly.

That made Peter blush.

“It was good seeing you, Peter,” Bones said, reaching out to shake the boy’s hand.

“Mr. Kirk,” Spock addressed Peter, “peace and long life.”

Jim looked at Spock, touched to see his friend showing such respect to his nephew.

Peter returned the ta’al proudly and said, “live long and prosper, Mr. Spock. Safe travels, everyone.”

He smiled and dashed off to find his family and girlfriend.

“Well, let’s get going,” Jim said, opening his communicator to call the ship. 

“Captain,” Spock stopped him. “I would like to check on Dr. Van Gelder. He expressed a desire to see you. Perhaps you might wish to accompany me?”

Spock reached out a beckoning hand so slightly no one else noticed, but Jim did. 

_Yes, I want to be with you, Spock._ He slid his hand from around Helen’s waist and smiled at her and Bones. “You two go on up. I’d like to see Dr. Van Gelder again. Have _you_ seen him, Bones?”

“Mm… briefly,” he said, quirking a glance at Spock, who responded with a raised eyebrow. They had almost botched things rather badly and they knew it. If Helen hadn’t been there…. Neither wanted to think about that. Jim was alive and McCoy had no doubt that Spock would have him back to normal again soon. Bones liked this new plan of Spock’s. Keeping Jim off the Enterprise while he was in this state was wise. The last thing they needed was for him to start giving orders, compromised as he was. Sequestering him up in the mountains was a smarter plan.

Bones was eager to read the news story in its entirety. From the headline, he surmised that experts had pieced it together that the video had triggered these tragic “relapses” in Dr. Adams’ former patients. He wondered if Captain Kirk would reveal publicly that he had been affected. Probably not. For starship captains, the standard was near infallibility.

McCoy tried to convey his trust in Spock with a small smile, then said, “All right, Helen. Let’s take our leave.”

“Goodbye for now, Captain,” she said, rubbing his lower back. She really did care for him and was glad she’d been able to help him tonight.

As soon as they were gone, Jim reached out for Spock. “I need your help,” he whispered.

“I know, Jim.” Spock moved closer to him for support.

“Meld with me, Spock. Help me. I’m losing my mind.”

“This afternoon, I experienced the depth of Dr. Van Gelder’s despair and emptiness when I melded with him,” Spock said. “I know how to help you, Captain. You will let me?”

“Yes. Yes, Spock. I’m so sorry that it seemed like I didn’t trust you. Of course I do. I just… I have to tell you something before we begin, okay?”

Spock nodded. “The Van Gelders have a guest room where we can meld. Their cabin is in the mountains, 80 miles from here. You will find it aesthetically agreeable.”

“...which is the important thing,” Jim joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Spock understood the urgency of beaming there before Jim’s mood could take another turn. “Spock to transporter room. Beam the captain and myself to the following coordinates….” Spock considerately chose the coordinates of the Van Gelder’s front walkway, so they could ring the doorbell like proper guests.

Spock explained briefly as they approached the front door: “Dr. Van Gelder was quite concerned for your safety, Captain. He and his wife do not know of my plan to bring you here, but I have reason to believe they will be hospitable.”

“This mountain air smells wonderful,” Jim remarked. 

The twilight sky was a deep blue and the stars were coming out. The moons had set and there was no light pollution up in the mountains to obscure the stars. They looked almost as they did from space.

Dr. Van Gelder opened the door and welcomed them wholeheartedly. “Oh, Captain Kirk, I am so glad you are safe. This is my dear wife, Lorna,” he said as they stepped into the front room.

“It’s an honor, Captain,” she said. “I don’t know how you have managed this trip, the parades and events you’ve been expected to do, if you’ve been suffering like my Simon was!”

Jim appreciated the expressions of concern. “I have moments when I’m fine,” he confided, “like now. And then suddenly…”

“Oh, it’s agony, pure agony, I know, and then euphoric happiness,” Dr. Van Gelder empathized, “and then an emptiness that swallows you whole. Oh, it feels so good to have control of my mind back. If Spock hadn’t come, I would have been number 17.”

“Number 17?” Jim asked.

“There have been suicides,” Spock explained. “Sixteen of Dr. Van Gelder’s former patients, all of whom had been conditioned by Dr. Adams’ neural neutralizer, have taken their own lives.”

“Oh, no,” Jim said. 

“Viewing the operating neural neutralizer in that news story video caused their moods to destabilize somehow,” Spock went on. “Although I do not understand the mechanism, I do know how to break the cycle of mood swings.” 

Jim nodded. Thank goodness he had Spock to help him.

“Have you experienced any suicidal thoughts, Captain?” Van Gelder asked. The psychiatrist in him wanted to know.

Jim wasn’t sure he quite wanted to admit that. He remembered standing on the edge of that cliff less than half an hour ago, thinking the only way to save Spock the misery of a relationship with him was not to exist. Before that, he had been nearly ecstatic over the beauty of a sunset. _Help me, Spock._

As though he had heard Jim’s plea, Spock asked the Van Gelders if they might borrow their guest room for the night, to meld and then rest.

“Of course you may!” Lorna said. “Feel free to use the shower and help yourselves to anything you want from the kitchen during the night if you get hungry. There are extra blankets in the armoire. Make yourselves right at home. We won’t tell anyone you’re here. I think Simon and I are going to turn in. It’s been a very long day.” 

“Goodnight. Thank you for your hospitality,” Spock replied for both of them. 

Jim had grown silent, staring into the middle-distance now with his lips a tight line. Spock took his arm firmly and led him to the bedroom. Once inside, he locked the door and sat Jim on the bed. Judging by the captain’s expression, he was trying very hard not to cry. Van Gelder had cried and screamed a lot during their meld, so Spock braced for the worst. He wished he’d had a few more hours to rest and possibly meditate between melds. He wanted to be at his best for Jim and he could feel fatigue pulling at him. He sat down next to his captain, not quite touching him.

“Jim,” he said gently. “When I meld with someone, I always shield. There are parts of my mind that I do not share. You know I find lengthy melds draining, but contrary to what you might expect, it is not the tempest of the other person’s emotions that taxes me. It is the struggle to protect my own emotions from being perceived. That is what consumes most of my energy.”

  
“Oh,” Jim said. “Spock, if you’re too tired, we can meld in the morning. I’ll be all right. If you’re with me, I can wait.”

“No, you misunderstand,” Spock said softly in his rich baritone that Jim found so comforting. “I have never done an unshielded meld before, but I was thinking perhaps with you, since we are close, I would forgo the shielding. That way I could put more of my energy into helping you and less into protecting myself.”

Jim nodded.

“You would feel my emotions. It can be disconcerting,” Spock cautioned.

“Not more disconcerting than what I’ve been going through,” Jim said. He felt terrible right now. He was alone with Spock in a bedroom and was about to see Spock’s innermost private mind, just like he had wanted. He should be overjoyed, but he felt like sobbing and didn’t know why.

“Let’s start. Can we start?” Jim felt an urgency. He was sinking lower. Even being next to Spock was not enough. Even knowing Spock would soon be sliding into his mind wasn’t enough. He needed more. The emptiness was unbearable and it was swelling like a cavern inside him. He remembered how holding Spock on the beach, in the pool, on the stone bench had given him such comfort and relief… and like a drowning man, Jim clung to him. 

Spock accepted the embrace and returned it. He’d been so worried about Jim’s safety. Now he had him here, safe. He knew what to do to help him and if it took all night, it took all night. Everything would be resolved by morning.

Jim was holding him so tightly. Spock was still wearing his ‘graph paper’ shirt and Jim’s hands reached up under it to touch bare skin.

“Oh, Spock. Kiss me like you did in the woods. I’ve never felt anything like that. We… we have a bed. We could...”

“Captain, I must concentrate on the matter at hand; it would be irresponsible to do anything less.”

“Less? It would be _more_ , Spock… and I need MORE. You’re slipping away!” Jim choked. “...or I am. I can’t tell.” 

Jim looked utterly bereft.

“Shh,” Spock said. “Lie down on the bed, Jim.” 

If Jim wanted more, he would give him more, all of him, everything he was. Spock had wanted to share himself with Jim this way for so long. It would be unethical to mate with him while his mental stability was compromised, but right now, they could have this: an unshielded meld.

Jim lay down on the double bed and Spock settled beside him. With their heads on the pillows, they faced each other. Jim’s eager lips were on Spock’s in a heartbeat. He didn’t notice Spock’s fingers on his face positioning themselves for a meld, but he noticed when the full force of Spock’s mind pushed into him.

“Oh!” Jim gasped.

His lips fell away from Spock’s and his body stilled. He had no need for anything external now. The whole world was inside him. He was full. The vast emptiness that had stretched for eternity within him was filled. He groaned with relief.

It hurt Spock to see Jim’s dynamic mind this way, so dependent on another for comfort and sustenance. He would only have to sustain him like this for a little while, though. Soon, Jim’s mental landscape would flower again with its own unique energy and confidence. Spock set about purging the oppressive influence of the neural neutralizer. Like a rescuer freeing a prisoner from his bonds, Spock began cutting away anything that was tying Jim down, preventing his own impulse control and mood regulating systems from operating properly.

Kirk could feel Spock in his mind, moving here and there, working. Jim knew his intentions and felt his focused concentration on what he was doing. They didn’t need to converse. Every thought in Spock’s mind was available to Jim, every memory, every feeling. Spock was a universe that Jim was somehow encompassing. The length and breadth of him, the soaring heights of his intellect and the depth of his feelings wheeled inside Jim. It defied description.

For what seemed like a long time, Jim was content to just bask in the experience. It was the polar opposite of loneliness. Then, his explorer spirit unfurled and caught the breeze. He heard the universe of Spock beckoning. He could sense it yearning to be explored. Parts of it were familiar and other parts weren’t. Nothing was concealed from him.

Spock gasped as he felt Jim moving through his mind. It was the most intimate contact Spock had ever had with another person. His beloved Jim. He stopped his work for a moment to savor Jim’s thoughts. Kirk was fantasizing about the two of them together, living together on Deneva… or Lyra… or Earth. Jim had many fantasies about him, some quite detailed and others just sparks of sexual or romantic energy. 

Spock’s mind was more disciplined. He’d been trained from a young age to derail chaotic thoughts before they took him in an unproductive direction. Nearly three years ago, when Spock discovered during meditation that he loved Jim, he dismissed the idea that Kirk would ever consider a bondmate relationship with him and never allowed himself to think about it or create any fantasy scenarios in which Jim was his lover. He acknowledged on an intellectual level that he desired it, but kept his impulses under tight control as he was trained to do. 

Jim’s amorous touches in the forest had aroused a desire Spock rarely allowed to surface. His body had responded and reminded him that mating outside of pon farr was possible for him. He was half human. Human like Jim. His body could respond. He could be what Jim wanted… but what Jim wanted had fluctuated wildly over the past few days. Spock had to accept the possibility that when Jim awoke tomorrow, healthy and whole, he might not need or want anything more from Spock than friendship.

A jolt… Jim had found something that upset him. 

_Oh, Spock! Gol isn’t a retreat of enlightenment! My God, please don’t do the Kolinahr. Don’t do that to yourself. I couldn’t stand it._

Spock could understand how, to Jim’s way of thinking, the Kolinahr must seem like self-mutilation. And he acknowledged that a large part of his own mind saw it that way, too, and that’s what Jim was picking up on.

_You don’t want to do that, Spock._

_No. I do not._

Jim now knew what Spock dealt with on a daily basis, his constant fight to maintain control over his emotions. He’d known for a while that Spock struggled, but now he could _feel_ it, feel his frustration, his shame at falling short of the Vulcan standard. Spock believed that other Vulcans could achieve the true mental serenity that eluded him, and he resented his hybrid nature for it. Jim remembered winning a chess game with Spock in their early days and teasing him gently for displaying irritation. Spock had commented that he had a human “ancestor” in his lineage and Jim had joked: “Terrible, having bad blood like that.” Later, when he learned Spock’s own mother was human, he realized how sensitive Spock really was about his mixed heritage. 

When he was split into two James Kirks by the transporter, Jim recalled how Spock had likened it to _his_ two halves always at war with each other. Spock said he had to use his intellect to force them to live together. Once Jim was fused whole again, he wanted to forget the experience, and never brought it up with Spock again. Now, inside Spock’s mind, Jim felt the ‘war’ his friend had mentioned. The inner universe of Spock was nothing like his cool exterior. His mind was compartmentalized and ordered in a way no human’s was, but there was a tension, a fragile armistice.

Jim understood why Spock had thought the Masters of Gol might be the only path forward for him. His mental controls had not improved over the years, despite his best efforts, and he’d never had more emotion to suppress. His love for Kirk had grown to the point where he constantly had to be on alert, inhibiting the smiles he ached to return and the touches he yearned to offer. He always had to guard against Dr. McCoy, who loved it when his armor cracked.

When Jim had stroked his hands like that in the privacy of the woods, it had been too much to resist. He knew Kirk was vulnerable and not himself, but he gave in, knowing he might never get the opportunity again. It was weak and unscrupulous and Jim felt the guilt it caused him.

_You gave me such comfort then, Spock, like you’re doing now. Thank you. You’re saving my life. Those suicides… I could have been one of them without you._

Spock could feel what Jim’s emotional anguish had been like for him at its worst. He felt so protective of Jim and knowing the suffering he’d endured pained him. Spock saw in detail the nightmare Jim had had with his former lovers and other women he’d known, bombarding him with recriminations. 

_Jim has guilt,_ Spock realized. If his captain’s mind were capable of producing a dream like _that_ , he must have mountains of it. Why would someone like him carry so much guilt? If there were ever a noble person who always strove to do the right thing, it was James T. Kirk.

Jim laughed. _You’re describing yourself, Spock._ They both admired each other so much. Then, Jim remembered what had happened in his dream after the women had faded away. Unbidden, the image of he and Spock making love came to his mind. 

_Spock, I… I’m sorry._

_There is no need for guilt, Jim. We both have enough of that. Show me the sunset that I missed,_ Spock suggested to change the subject. 

Jim was grateful. _Oh, it was spectacular, Spock. I was wishing you were there to see it._

He thought of it and they were there. It was even better watching it with Spock at his side. Spock was simultaneously beside him and working to correct the effects of the neural neutralizer, but it didn’t feel that way to Jim. It felt like Spock and he were standing on the cliffside gazing out over the sea. The colors made him feel like he did the first time, and Spock bathed in Jim’s high spirits. After a few moments, Jim grew apprehensive about the sunset fading.

_When the colors started going gray… it was a horrible sensation for me._

_I will keep the sunset like this for you,_ Spock promised. _We can enjoy it as long as you like._

_Spock, you are a wonder! You can freeze a sunset?_

_It is a memory of a sunset,_ Spock corrected. He perceived Jim’s conversation with Mr. Felsing. _We are to be immortalized in stone?_

_Yeah, isn’t that a kick?_ Jim said. 

_It pleases you that your senior officers have been included in the project._

_Yes. Look how that rock sparkles, Spock._ Jim smiled and realized he was free to take Spock’s hand. None of the other people in the vicinity were really there.

Spock accepted it. 

_You think my face resembles chiseled marble,_ Spock read in Jim’s mind.

_Yes._

_Because of my bone structure or my ‘poker face,’ as Dr. McCoy calls it?_ Spock wondered.

_Both, I suppose,_ Jim said.

_You wish that you could read my emotions on my face the way you can with your other friends._

_Yes, sometimes,_ Jim admitted, since he couldn’t hide anything from Spock right now anyway.

_Since childhood, I was taught not to let my emotions animate my face. I know that it causes Terrans to perceive me as cold, but it is a cultural norm I have chosen to adhere to._

_I know, Spock. It’s fine._

_You are thinking of the times you have seen me smile broadly._

_Yes. You were always under an outside influence, except for the time you thought you had killed me on Vulcan then saw me alive in Sickbay._

_That was the strongest surge of unexpected joy I have ever experienced. It could not be stifled,_ Spock recalled.

Jim smiled at that and Spock smiled back. The sunset looked positively magical and holding Spock’s hand was bliss.

_I want to bond with you, Spock. That’s what you want, isn’t it? I want it, too._

***

“Well, I’m gonna go to bed,” McCoy said.

“Aren’t you worried, Len?” Helen asked.

“Nah. Spock can handle it.” McCoy said, getting up from his office chair.

“Yeah, but he’s got Dr. Van Gelder to look after, too,” she pointed out. “Seems like we ought to be doing more to help.”

“You were very helpful this evening, Doctor. However you managed to lure Jim away from that cliff, well done,” Bones said.

“Well, he loves me, remember? He’s loved me for years.” She quirked a coy smile. “He went into that mode when I got to him, so I used it… asked him to take a walk with me and he fell right into step! No brilliant psychology required.”

“Lord, I nearly had a heart attack when I saw him standing there,” Bones said, “then _not_ standing there. Thank goodness his guardian angel was around.” McCoy winked at his colleague and she smiled.

“So Spock was trying to beam the captain off the cliff, but the transporter grabbed _you_ instead?” Helen asked for clarity.

Bones nodded. “Because I had his communicator in my pocket. He left it by Biobed 1 when he ran off a few hours ago. I was bringing it to him, but hadn’t had the chance to give it back yet.”

“Who would have thought it would be so dangerous for him to be without his communicator?” Helen mused.

“Not me, obviously. Until you brought me the news about the suicides, I really didn’t think this thing was life-threatening,” McCoy admitted.

“I’m glad I saw that story when I did.”

“You did the right thing beaming down and telling me ASAP. This night really could have gone south on us.” It hit McCoy what truly could have happened. He shook his head and Dr. Noel could tell what he was picturing. She hugged him. 

“His speech was so eloquent and moving,” Bones remarked. “He seemed so confident…”

“He’s resilient, but if you’d seen him leaving my quarters, after we… well, I hope I never have to see him that way again. I’ll just say that.” She looked down.

“I’m glad he’s with Spock,” Bones said. 

“Yeah,” she agreed, not completely sure what he meant by ‘with Spock.’ _Actually, this might be a good time to ask_ , she thought.

Trying to sound as casual as possible, she asked, “The captain and Mr. Spock, are they…?” She raised her eyebrows.

Bones chuckled. “Heck if I know.”

“I’ve just heard some people implying…”

“If I don’t know, I doubt anyone else does,” McCoy scoffed and moved toward the door.

Helen could tell the topic was closed. “Shall I just turn in, too, Len?”

“I don’t see why not. We’ve contacted everyone with a need to know. Vulcan healers are being sent out to Dr. Adams’ surviving patients and investigators have been informed of the nature of the affliction.”

“Did we do the right thing concealing the fact that our captain was also a victim of this thing?” Helen asked.

“Jim will reveal what he wants to reveal later. We’ll leave that up to him.”

Helen smiled and nodded.

As they headed to their cabins, Helen asked, “What do you think they’re doing right now, Len? I wish I understood how telepaths do what they do,” Helen said wistfully. “What is a Vulcan mind meld _like?_ ” she wondered.

“It’s like holding a galaxy or two inside your noggin,” Bones said as his door whooshed open. “See ya in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Len.”

Bones couldn’t wait to get out of his dress shirt. He unclasped the ‘sling’ and let the collar hang open while he poured himself a drink. He thought of Helen’s questions. 

He realized his answer about Spock’s mind melds implied more experience with them than he really had. Kirk and Spock melded for pleasure… recreation… curiosity… whyever they did it, but Bones didn’t want any part of that Vulcan voodoo. 

Jim seemed quite taken with it, though. He had once confided, “God, Bones, there’s so much more to Spock than anyone sees. It feels like two galaxies packed between my ears when we’re melded. It’s incredible. Still, there’s so much he keeps private, I can tell.” 

Jim liked challenges. Had he breached Spock’s defenses by now? Were they lovers? Bones didn’t know, but if they were, McCoy imagined the guilt Jim must be feeling over what happened with Helen. Bones was pretty sure Jim hadn’t been with a woman since Janice Lester had screamed at him, “I want you dead!” over and over. He had handled that with grace and forgiveness, but it had shaken him up, Bones knew. Having his body hijacked, then enduring such verbal wrath, took him a while to get over. Jim _was_ resilient, but almost five years of physically and emotionally demanding missions had taken its toll. Sometimes it seemed to McCoy that it was just trauma after trauma for his captain and friend. Now _this_. 

Bones shook his head and downed the last of the liquid from his glass. He stripped and climbed into bed, exhausted. He’d utterly failed at helping Jim this time. It was in Spock’s hands now.


	7. Chapter 7

Spock had not responded to Jim’s declaration that he wanted to bond with him. Standing together, bathed in the light of this glorious sunset, it had seemed to Jim the perfect moment to declare his devotion, but Spock wasn’t reacting. He was still holding his hand, but his gaze was cast out over the ocean.

“You think I’m still not thinking clearly,” Jim accused. 

“You are not,” Spock said simply.

“I love you, Spock. I’ve loved you for years.”

“As you have loved Dr. Noel for years?” 

Jim looked stricken.

Spock had said it to illustrate to Jim that his mind was still compromised, but turning to see his captain’s face, he immediately realized it was the wrong thing to say.

“Captain, under normal circumstances, I do not believe you would be expressing love for me or asking for a bond.”

“You don’t believe I love you?” Jim asked, hurt. “I’m not affected by the neural neutralizer anymore, am I?”

“I am holding it at bay, but it is still acting on you, yes,” Spock explained. “I am working to free you, but it will take time, perhaps several hours.”

“How are you doing that and watching the sunset with me at the same time?” Jim wondered.

“I have the capability,” was all Spock could answer. Trying to describe it to Jim would take them out of this moment and the sunset was working nicely to keep Jim happy and calm… or it _had_ been.

Spock regretted not just saying yes to the bond, kissing Jim, and letting him believe it would happen. In the morning, Jim would likely want no such thing, but now, his captain believed he could live his life bound until death to a Vulcan… male. 

Spock had an idea. “You have fantasized about us leaving the Service and living together on Deneva, Jim. We could explore that fantasy now, if you like, while I continue to work.

Jim’s face hardened. “I don’t want to play house with you, Spock, especially when half of your attention is elsewhere. I want reality, not fantasy… and you don’t have to nursemaid me. I’m fine. Go concentrate on your work.”

Spock hesitated, unsure, then said stoically, “You are angry at being rejected. I have _not_ rejected you. We can have this discussion in the morning when you are free from foreign influences.”

Jim pursed his lips together, as they threatened to quiver. He could feel himself getting upset.

“You don’t want me. My mind’s too erratic. I’m not good enough for you, Spock, not by any measure.” Jim’s awe for his friend’s abilities was suddenly turning to disdain for his own shortcomings. “You deserve an equal. I’m not even a telepath; all of this is _your_ doing.” Jim indicated the perfectly-simulated sunset and cliffside setting. “I’m like a dancing monkey compared to you. How can you even stand to be my subordinate?”

“Jim, your mind is brilliant, just different from mine. I admire your leadership skills, inestimable service record, and unique personal traits. I am proud to serve under you.” This shouldn’t need to be said, but Spock could feel Kirk’s mood sliding downward. He must find something to buoy him up, quickly.

Jim shook his head. “I’m a mass of conflicting emotions and my sexuality disgusts you, doesn’t it, Spock? You don’t want any part of my animal attraction to you. I’ve tried hard to hide it, but lately my need has been so great that I _can’t!_ ” Jim looked miserable. “I’m sorry for pawing at you in the forest.”

That was the key: Jim’s sexuality. 

Spock _wanted_ to indulge in it, but it never seemed prudent. Here, in the privacy of their shared mind, perhaps he _could,_ especially if it restored the happiness that was draining from Jim. Spock wasn’t 100% sure if he could make love to Jim while continuing his work. He decided if he had to take a break to be fully present for the sexual encounter, then so be it. He had all night to complete his work.

“Jim,” he began boldly, “it felt good when you touched me, and the way you stroked my hands… I felt aroused sexually. You know that.”

Jim remembered how hard Spock had become, and nodded. He concentrated on Spock’s thoughts at this moment and he could sense desire.

“That wasn’t the right time or venue, neither was the beach, or pool,” Spock said, “but perhaps THIS could be...”

The salty sea air turned to a mountain breeze and the sunset became a velvet night sky with two Denevan moons shining overhead. Kirk stood with Spock on the front porch of a brightly lit cabin similar to the Van Gelders’ but smaller. Smoke was rising from the chimney. Spock opened the unlocked door and led his captain inside. Jim smiled when he realized the fireplace was in the bedroom. It was flickering and crackling in a very pleasing way. 

Jim didn’t remember coming through a front room. This wasn’t a real place. Nonetheless, he felt himself relax in the cozy setting Spock’s mind had created. They were alone. He noticed Spock was now wearing that burgundy shirt that he liked, and _he_ was in the shirt he had worn to the picnic.

He liked everything about the cabin bedroom: the honied hues of polished log walls, the boulder hearth, the masculine colors of the decor, and the centerpiece of the room… a comfortable four-poster bed.

_Spock is going to make love to me_ , Jim thought with wonder and some disbelief. True to his word, Spock still wasn’t shielding, so Jim could perceive all of his friend’s complex motivations for wanting to do it here and now, as a mental exercise. The Vulcan’s face glowed with firelight. He looked almost too good to be true. 

“This isn’t real,” Jim whispered, because the venue encouraged low voices.

“It is,” Spock assured in a hushed rumble. “It is _you_ , and it is _me._ ”

The intimacy was almost too much for Jim. There would be no privacy; he would be exposed physically and mentally... simultaneously. He wasn’t used to that.

“I am not accustomed to it either,” Spock reminded.

A 3D chess set appeared on a small wooden table between the two highback cordovan chairs by the fireside.

Jim smiled. “Yes.” 

Crazy that they needed an ice breaker, but they seemed to. Spock slid into one chair and Jim sat in the one opposite. The set was beautiful: mahogany and pine with jade pieces. His uncle in Idaho had a set like this. Spock had taken it from his mind perfectly. 

Spock watched as Jim set up the pieces. He was luminous. Spock waited for him to realize…

“Oh!” Jim laughed. “We can’t play like this, can we?” 

He had seen all of Spock’s planned moves, like Spock expected he would.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Jim said. “You got me.”

Spock watched his friend throw his golden head back and laugh. Spock yearned for him.

Jim felt something and looked down to see he was wearing satin pajamas. Spock had put him in captain’s gold with a medallion print. He had never imagined a pair like them, so they must be something from Spock’s memory or imagination. The sumptuous fabric gleamed in the firelight. The shirt was unbuttoned a bit, revealing his chest.

He smiled shyly at Spock, then with a wicked grin said, “Okay, now _you._ ”

Spock quirked an eyebrow. He was waiting for Jim to choose something. Jim closed his eyes and when he opened them, Spock sat beside him in a satin robe, the same burgundy as his shirt had been.

“No. Black. I like all of my Vulcan lovers in black,” Jim joked. 

Spock made it so. _Jim is nervous,_ he recognized.

Jim was just gazing at him. They knew each other’s minds.

Spock rose gracefully and took Kirk’s hand. He led him to the bed. Spock drew back the plush covers and they slid in next to each other. 

“Are you still working, Spock?” Jim asked, wondering if Spock’s attention remained divided.

“No.” He wanted to be 100% present for this. “I will resume when you are sleeping. We have time.”

Jim reached for Spock’s sensitive hands and started stroking them gently. “What makes you think I’ll fall asleep?” he said suggestively.

Spock quirked an eyebrow. He leaned forward and claimed Kirk’s mouth as he had in the forest. Oh, he was going to enjoy Jim, give him everything he needed, drive out this horrible loneliness he’d suffered.

Jim held Spock’s warm body. It felt like a relief to be so close at last. He’d wanted to reach for his friend countless times, offer physical comfort when he knew Spock was hurting. He’d watched Spock’s stony face go even harder when bigotry reared its head at him, or he was disappointed in himself for solving a problem too slowly, or his captain was threatened or disrespected. In those moments, Jim had longed to pull Spock close, comfort him, tell him how much he appreciated him. 

Now, with Spock in his arms, Jim poured all of these impulses into his kisses. Spock’s mouth was hot and he tasted as exotic as he looked. His lips were soft and so gentle. Jim remembered how he had stared at them on the Lyran beach, wondering how they would taste. He was glad he’d been able to control himself then, but _here_ he didn’t have to. Spock wanted him, all of him. He couldn’t startle or surprise Spock here. His friend had access to all of his thoughts and vice versa. Spock knew what he wanted and was going to give it to him. Excitement surged through him. _Spock, I love you._

_I love you, too, Jim._ Spock thoughts were swirling around the memory of his captain groping him in the forest. He wanted to do that to Jim. The first touch through his satin pajama pants took Jim’s breath away, even though he was expecting it. Spock sensed that he wanted him to press in deeper with more pressure. The area seemed so delicate to Spock’s fingers but he began stroking and kneading with the intensity Jim desired.

“Ohhhh!” Kirk moaned, his hips reflexively jutting toward Spock. The material allowed Spock’s clever fingers to slide easily over and around his anatomy even though his touch was heavy and probing. Jim realized Spock had removed his underwear when he changed him into the pajamas. He wondered if Spock were similarly undressed beneath his black robe. His mind got the answer before his hand did. Spock’s robe had fallen open and Jim touched bare flesh. Touching Spock there was surreal. 

Never having been touched naked there before, Spock flinched back a bit, but then angled his hips back toward Jim for more. Jim was searching his mind for the particulars on how Spock wanted to be touched, but was coming up with conflicting images. He thought that perhaps his own state of arousal was impairing his ability to correctly sense Spock’s thoughts, but then he realized… _Spock doesn’t know how he wants to be touched._

Pulling a swath of the black satin robe over Spock’s front, Kirk returned his hand to the sensitive area, feeling Spock twitch and throb beneath his fingers. He felt the outline of him grow at his light touch. Jim’s delighted fingers danced along the Vulcan’s length, teasing and stimulating through the satin until Spock was stiff and panting. He reached between Spock’s legs and gently caressed his softer parts, cradling the area with his palm as he kissed along Spock’s collarbone. His mind was filled with love and desire.

“Oh, Jim,” Spock whispered. He was swept away with sensation. His mind and his body were overwhelmed. Jim pulled back a bit for a break and put his hands on Spock’s face. He stroked his friend’s high cheekbones and kissed him with such feeling, Spock thought he might cry. His beautiful captain, who had endured so much pain, was deliriously happy in this sensual fireside nest Spock had created for them. 

Spock’s hand came up to rest on Jim’s hip. He gripped it lightly and stroked it in small circles with his thumb as they kissed. Jim mirrored him. Spock’s hipbone was not as sharp as Jim was expecting, and his hand enjoyed the slippery journey over its satin-clad peak. He slid his hand around behind Spock and felt the tightest gluteal muscles he’d ever felt. He liked it. It was the opposite of feminine and a reminder of the new territory he was entering. It made his heart race. He gripped the strong muscle and coaxed Spock’s hips toward his. They were perfectly aligned and the first brush of Jim’s shaft against Spock’s was electric.

Through the sumptuous fabrics, they slid against each other, moaning and pressing their bodies tighter together. Jim had his arm around Spock, gripping from behind, squeezing and encouraging him to rock his hips forward. Spock was so strong, but restrained. One of his worst fears was that he would hurt Jim.

His hand traveled up Jim’s back to the nape of his neck. Spock wove his fingers through Jim’s soft hair and cradled his head. He took Jim’s mouth again and probed deep with his hot tongue, being careful that Jim could breathe. The human’s breath across his face was life itself. Spock revelled in the proximity of one he’d adored for so long. 

The rhythm of their hips was in perfect sync now as the pleasure swelled. They were both so hard. Spock’s slender shaft had never felt an engorgement like this before. It was becoming a challenge for Spock to keep the rhythmic slide from breaking down into a frenzy of frantic grinding. He needed to give Jim what he wanted before it was too late.

He rolled Kirk away from him and grabbed the waistband of his satin pajama bottoms. They were pulled off before Jim knew what happened. Spock’s fingers were dipping into an open jar that had suddenly appeared on the nightstand. The sound that the lubricant made as Spock slathered it on himself almost made Jim come right then. The anticipation was so great. Jim had never experienced having his body breached by anyone. He’d never had a male lover, never seriously considered one until Spock. But the fantasies he’d had about Spock taking him from behind made his orgasms explode like he’d seldom experienced. He held his breath, knowing this would be incredible. 

Spock knew what to do from Kirk’s mind. He held Jim’s cheeks apart and began to press in. Just the tip touching him there, entering his body, made Jim shiver. He angled his hips in a plea for more. Spock’s strong grip steadied him and he felt the hot invasion proceed. He wanted to slam backwards into Spock, take it all at once, but Spock held his hips tightly, determined to go slowly.

_You’re driving me mad!_

_I do not want to hurt you. Be still._

“Ahhh!” Jim moaned as he was stretched. Spock was claiming him little by little. Jim admired his control even as he begged for him to lose it.

_Please, Spock. I can take it. I want it!_

Finally, Spock was fully seated inside him. He curved his lean body around his lover and held Jim tenderly, kissing his neck and moaning endearments into his ear. Jim could feel the Vulcan’s tight sack pressed against his body. Then, it was gone for a moment. Then, it was back. Spock was thrusting! Gently at first, then harder once he was sure he wasn’t causing Jim any pain.

_Oh, God!_ Jim thought. The pleasure was so great. _Am I going to live through this?_

Jim’s shaft was so impossibly hard, the skin stretched thin and shiny; it bobbed in front of him with every thrust of Spock’s hips. Kirk moved to touch himself, but before he could, Spock reached his lubricated hand over his hip and gripped him securely. They kicked off what was left of the covers; they were generating so much heat.

Spock formed a circle with his thumb and two fingers and ran it up and down around Jim’s length from base to tip. 

“Ohhh!” Jim groaned. 

Spock created a rhythm: the ring of his fingers was squeezing the base of Kirk’s shaft when he was buried deep in Kirk’s body... then, when he was pulling out for another thrust, his hand moved up to Jim’s tip to swirl his thumb through the leaking fluid. This rhythm, repeated over and over, was impossibly erotic. It seemed that with each deep thrust, Spock was trying to touch his fingers to the tip of his own probing shaft, right through Jim’s body. It felt like a circuit closing; all of Jim’s nerves were crackling and alive like the flames that cast their light over the lovers.

Jim was so close. His sack had pulled up achingly tight against his body and the tension was the focal point from which an explosion was inescapable. Jim didn’t _want_ to escape it. He started chasing it, needing the release. Each of Spock’s thrusts were driving him closer and closer. There was nothing in this universe but Spock, claiming his body and his mind, consuming him, completing him.

Spock was using more of his strength than he had planned. The sound of his body slapping against Jim’s on every thrust was intoxicating. The feel of being surrounded by Kirk’s tightness, driving Jim to such heights of pleasure, made Spock feel powerful and potent. He wanted to scream out that he had conquered the unconquerable, the highest prize in the galaxy. Jim was his. HIS! 

Kirk heard his passion-fueled thoughts of possession and dominance and their primal intensity pushed him over the edge.

“Ohhh, SPOCK!! Ahhhhh!” Jim cried, as white ribbons burst out of him onto the bed and the floor.

Spock grabbed Kirk roughly by the hips and, with a final forceful thrust, came deeply inside him.

“Ohhh,” Jim moaned. Spock’s hot liquid filled him, even as his own was still pulsing out in sizable aftershocks. What a sensation. He was swimming in sensation, barely remembering to come up for air. His body was thrumming with vitality. 

“My God, Spock,” he panted.

Spock had shared everything he had with him, pushed himself far past his comfort zone to please him. Jim wondered if he was all right, then he sensed Spock’s thoughts trying to reorder themselves after this unprecedented experience. The Vulcan had shocked himself with his unshackled sexuality. His love for Jim permeated every thought in his mind. 

“Jim…,” Spock whispered against his shoulder blade as he held him. Their hearts were still hammering, but beginning to slow. Spock sensed himself softening and pulled out slowly. Jim rolled to face him. Spock looked completely undone and Jim’s lips curved into a loving smile.

“You are so beautiful, Spock,” he said because he couldn't help the words from spilling out. “That was incredible.”

Spock’s eyes were drinking in his captain’s flushed face with an expression of wonder and disbelief.

Sweaty and sticky, they moved to the cool, clean side of the large bed.

“Mmm,” Jim hummed as he lay on his back next to Spock. Only their hands were touching now. They both needed to cool down, but couldn’t completely give up their physical connection. They lie on the cool sheets, uncovered, sharing a pillow. The ceiling was an interesting vaulted space of thick, crisscrossing beams. For some reason they both found it a very pleasing thing to look at while they cooled off. The firelight created ever-changing shadows up there and it was mesmerizing. 

Spock had almost lost the meld during his orgasm and was using this time to shore it up. Jim could feel it. It was like being gathered back up into Spock’s arms. Jim was completely and utterly content with the world. Spock’s mind was the universe he wanted to live in.

When they were cool enough to embrace again, Spock gathered up Jim’s body like he’d gathered his mind and held him close. Jim laid his head on Spock’s chest and listened to his heart as he had on the beach. This time, Spock’s arms were around him, holding him like he was the most precious thing in the galaxy. His mind was full. Full, as though it had never known emptiness and never would. They lay there communing, thoughts flying at the speed of light, perfect conversations, dozens of them in the blink of an eye.

“Ahh,” Jim sighed eventually from euphoria and exhaustion.

_Sleep, Jim,_ Spock whispered to his mind.

The suggestion went straight to his muscles and Jim melted into Spock’s chest.

***

Kirk awoke the next morning on his back. The low, flat ceiling above him felt wrong. He remembered looking up at a vaulted ceiling with wooden beams, cooling off after… after…

“Oh,” Jim gasped.

He raised up on his elbows and looked around. He was on the Van Gelders’ guestroom bed and Spock was beside him, still asleep. The Vulcan was facing away from him. Jim’s first impulse was to touch him and whisper his name, but then he thought how tired Spock must be. After Kirk had fallen asleep, Spock had to keep working, healing his mind from the effects of the neural neutralizer. 

Jim didn’t remember any of that. Had Spock been successful? He felt fine. Really good, actually. He considered the possibility that Spock had only recently gotten to sleep. He stood up as quietly as he could and crept around to the other side of the bed to see Spock’s face. Light was filtering in through the window, enough for Jim to confirm that Spock was indeed sleeping… soundly, it appeared.

_Oh, Spock,_ he thought with adoration. They were a couple now. Would Spock consider them so? Kirk wondered. They were still in their clothes. Jim didn’t feel stretched or sore. He wasn’t… leaking. Jim gazed at Spock’s serene face. Part of him couldn’t believe what they had done. Spock had assured him it was real. It had certainly _felt_ real, every bit as real as now. Jim pictured Spock waking and denying anything had happened… or worse yet, minimizing it or saying it was only for therapeutic purposes.

Could Spock even handle this? Perhaps his Vulcan psychology and upbringing would give him no choice but to return to the stoicism that defined him. Jim would have to accept it, if that’s what Spock chose. His friend had saved his life, saved him from dying of loneliness. Jim looked at Spock’s beloved face. He hoped he would see it animated with passion again, taste his lips again, discuss bonding again… but if their love was to be platonic going forward, at least Spock had given him this incredible memory he could relive in his mind whenever he wanted.

_Thank you, Spock. I love you_. _I’ll always love you, any way you want me,_ Jim thought. 

He knew now for certain how Spock felt. That was enough. He wouldn’t strain him by asking for more than he could give. Jim smiled at his ability to be at peace with whatever choice Spock made. He really _did_ feel good. Tearing his eyes away from Spock’s sleeping form, he went to the window and pulled the curtains together tighter to keep the room as dim as possible for his exhausted first officer. 

He snatched his communicator from the nightstand and attached it to his belt. Jim wouldn’t be forgetting _that_ again anytime soon! He left Spock’s on the nightstand, but set it so only command-grade officers could get through. Kirk didn’t want Spock’s sleep disturbed for routine matters. He glanced at his face one more time, then slipped into the hallway to find the bathroom.

As he washed his hands, Jim looked at himself in the mirror with amazement. He remembered sweating until his hair was plastered to his face, but his reflection looked shower fresh. He didn’t want the memory to ever fade. He thought it was burned on his brain, but just in case, he closed his eyes and went over it moment-by-moment, savoring all of the feelings and sensations. He envied Spock’s excellent memory. He envied so much about Spock. 

Once, when he had asked about Vulcan bondmates, Kirk was surprised how thoroughly Spock had explained it to him. He’d learned that bonded mates acquired each other’s abilities, memories, and knowledge. They truly were half of a whole, bolstering each other’s shortcomings and benefitting from each other’s strengths. Spock had been denied that with T’Pring. Oh, how Jim wanted to fill this role for Spock. If there were ever two people who naturally complemented each other, it was them. 

They might even be t’hy’la. Spock had once described that as brothers-in-arms from ancient times whose natural compatibility allowed them to bond if they chose to. Jim understood it to be mostly a mental connection, but got the feeling it could be sexual as well. He’d been too hesitant to ask Spock directly, but that was his impression. He remembered how Spock had paused for his reaction. Had he been hoping for something? 

If he _had_ been, Jim hadn’t given it to him. It was very Terran to be ruggedly individualistic. This merging of minds sounded intrusive and alien to him at the time. Jim liked having close friends, but needed his privacy. He couldn’t foresee, back then, ever wanting another person to have complete access to his thoughts and secrets. He’d had no idea…

Now, looking in the mirror, he marveled at how good he felt. Thanks to Spock’s astounding talents, he was free of the mood swings, and his body was 100% convinced it had a powerful orgasm last night. He felt bonded to Spock already. Perhaps if Spock would make love to him mentally like _that_ from time to time, he could forgo an actual physical relationship with him. Whatever Spock wanted. He had let Jim see all of himself. They’d both been more naked than most lovers ever let themselves be.

Jim examined all that he now knew about Spock. Touching his emotions had been eye-opening. He was a beautiful person by human standards, but didn’t think of himself that way at all. Peers had treated him contemptuously in his childhood for displaying emotion and Spock knew it embarrassed his father. He’d worked all his life to suppress his feelings. He treated them ruthlessly, like cunning enemies waiting to ambush him in a weak moment. Jim had treated them gently, like a basket of kittens. 

“Entrust your emotions to _me_ , Spock, not to the Masters of Gol.” Jim had implored him. “They will burn away what should be protected and nurtured. Please don’t go there. I would die thinking of you doing such harm to yourself.” Jim felt how terrified Spock had been that he might commit suicide, jump from that cliff. “Gol would be like your human half committing suicide, Spock. Swear you’ll never go there or contemplate the Kolinahr again.”

“I swear, Jim,” Spock had acquiesced.

That had relieved Jim’s mind. He knew Spock wouldn’t break his word. Jim remembered that pledge and smiled at his reflection. He clipped the clasp properly on the neck of his dress uniform shirt, wishing he had his casual green v-neck with him, then opened the bathroom door. 

The smell of cinnamon rolls caught his nostrils and coaxed him down the hall to the kitchen.

Jim could see the Van Gelders through their sliding glass door having breakfast outside at their porch table. He crossed through the kitchen and stepped outside to greet them.

“Oh, Captain. Good morning,” Lorna said. “Won’t you join us for breakfast? I have some cinnamon buns.”

“I smelled them. Sounds delicious, thank you,” Kirk said.

“Did Mr. Spock complete his task?” Dr. Van Gelder asked. “Are you feeling well, Captain?”

“I feel wonderful. Quite a relief!” 

“I know exactly what you mean,” Van Gelder said. “Lorna and I like to sit outside for breakfast and the mountain air has never smelled sweeter to me than it does right now.”

Jim helped himself to a big lungful and agreed. He stepped to the porch’s log railing and looked around. It was lovely here. He could see two other cabins nearby, but most of the view was tall, needle-bearing trees. A carpet of purple blooms covered the forest floor and birds were singing. Jim looked up at the Denevan sky. He’d heard that it appeared turquoise from the higher elevations, but this was his first time seeing it with his own eyes.

“Vivid, isn’t it? Especially framed by the treetops,” Van Gelder said. 

Jim nodded. He smiled as Lorna returned with a warm cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee for him. He took a seat at their glass table.

“Thank you, Mrs. Van Gelder.”

“Oh, you’re more than welcome, dear. Please, call me Lorna.”

Beautiful place you have here,” Kirk said, “straight out of _my_ retirement dreams.”

Lorna smiled. “You like the mountains, Captain Kirk?”

“Yes, very much,” he replied. “My uncle had a mountain ranch in Idaho. I used to love visiting there, riding his horses.”

“There are no horses on Deneva, I’m afraid,” Mrs. Van Gelder said.

“No? Hm, that’s too bad,” Kirk said. He thought of his nephew never experiencing horseback riding. That got him wondering if _Spock_ had ever been on a horse. Probably not. He should have asked him while they were looking at the old pictures. Jim smiled picturing Spock in a cowboy hat, out for a long ride with him on a lazy Idaho afternoon.

“It’s good to see you looking so happy again, Captain,” Lorna commented.

“Indeed,” Van Gelder agreed.

“Thank you for the guestroom,” Jim remembered to say. “Forgive us for imposing on you like we did last night.”

“Oh, now, don’t be silly. Mr. Spock has saved my husband’s sanity _twice_ now. You’re welcome here anytime, Captain. I’m so glad you and Simon escaped that awful fate.” 

She wrung her hands thinking about it. It seemed almost unreal on this beautiful morning with everyone in such good spirits. “It’s just terrible those 16 people had to die like that,” she felt compelled to say.

“Yes,” Kirk said, wishing there had been some way to save them. _What a horrible way to die,_ he thought. “How are _you_ feeling today, Doctor?” Jim asked Van Gelder. “Any lingering effects?”

“No. I feel terrific.”

“Me too,” Kirk said, “Thanks to Spock.”

“He’s a wonder!” Van Gelder exclaimed. “Is he still sleeping?”

“Yes,” Jim said.

“It takes a lot outta him, doesn’t it?” Van Gelder said.

“Yeah,” Jim acknowledged. 

“The Vulcan healers sent to Tantalus V four years ago could only see one patient a day,” Van Gelder said, “and they needed to rest and meditate after each meld.”

“Well, Mr. Spock is certainly welcome to use the guest room for as long as he needs it,” Lorna said.

“Thank you. We’re leaving in a few hours for Vega, though,” Jim said. 

“Vega? That’s far,” Van Gelder said.

“Twelve days away at warp 6,” Jim said.

“I had a patient on Tantalus who was from Vega. She was a smart cookie. I wonder if she’s among those who...?”

Jim looked down.

“They haven't released any names,” the doctor explained. “I talked to Dr. Bruges early this morning. The man is beside himself. He thought the documentary was a good idea and now he may be culpable for 16 deaths. He’s not a bad person, not like Dr. Adams. I found myself feeling sorry for him.”

Jim nodded. He understood.

“If I’d still been director there, I wonder what choice I would have made,” Van Gelder pondered.

“Oh, Simon, you never would have allowed that horrible device to be reassembled!” Mrs. Van Gelder said.

“I don’t know, Honey. I’m sure the filmmakers wanted to tell a good story. They might have convinced me that they needed to show…”

Lorna was shaking her head, unconvinced. 

Simon looked fondly at her. “It just seems a shame. One bad decision and now not only is Chuck’s career ruined, but so is his good name. There will be folks who actively hate him now. His name will be spoken in the same breath as Tristan Adams, creator of that monstrosity. Chuck doesn’t deserve that.”

Both Kirk and Lorna looked thoughtful and nodded. 

“Would you like a second one, Captain?” Mrs. Van Gelder gestured to his empty plate, “and some more coffee?”

“Yes, thank you, if it’s not too much trouble,” Kirk said. He was hungry and those rolls were delicious. 

“For the Hero of Deneva?! My goodness no. We’re the luckiest household on the planet to host _you_.”

She scooped up his plate and mug, then ducked back into the house.

The captain looked sheepish after her effusive praise.

Dr. Van Gelder smiled. “It _is_ an honor, Captain,” he said, like he’d almost forgotten what a big deal it was to have him here.

Jim waved him off. “You spoke of decisions. I nearly had to make a doozy here three years ago.”

Dr. Van Gelder was a psychiatrist. Jim wanted to tell him this. 

“The invasion… I couldn’t let it spread. Mr. Spock discovered that it had already taken out the populations of four star systems: Beta Portellan, Lavinius V, Theta Signi XII, and Ingraham B. Then, we learned from my sister-in-law that Denevans were being forced to build ships to carry those creatures deeper into our galaxy. I wanted to save the Denevans, but my primary responsibility was preventing the spread.

Van Gelder’s somber face told Jim he’d guessed where this was going.

“Before we managed to find the answer, I was preparing for the possibility that I might have to kill every man, woman, and child on Deneva.”

Van Gelder blew out a breath, trying to get his head around what making decisions on that scale would be like. “Quite a position to be in,” he said.

“Hm. That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” Jim said to lighten things up.

It was an old-style expression and gave Van Gelder a chuckle, as Jim intended. They both knew the Service wasn’t lucrative.

“Well, I’m glad you found a way,” the doctor said.

“So am I,” Jim replied. “There’s a fine line between hero and villain sometimes. ...Not many know this, but I am a survivor of Tarsus IV.”

Van Gelder’s eyes widened. Everyone in Federation space knew about Governor Kodos’ atrocities on Tarsus IV nearly 25 years ago. Finding out the great Captain Kirk had been there surprised him, though. 

“You must have been quite young,” the doctor said.

“14.”

Before Van Gelder could offer him the obligatory, “I’m sorry,” Jim continued. 

“When there seemed to be no way to save the population of Deneva, I pictured my name going down in history beside Kodos the Executioner’s. I commiserated with his thought process then. To him, he was saving half of his colony. Instead of everyone dying, half would live. That was a victory to him, the only one he could get. He didn’t know help would be arriving sooner than expected.”

“...and yet history judges him a butcher for making that decision in the way he did,” Van Gelder said. 

“Yes. I wonder what the exalted Marjorie Hidalgo would have done in the early days of Deneva if the colony’s food supply had been decimated. Sometimes the options just aren’t there. You have to decide between bad and worse. If not for a turn of luck, I would be a butcher, instead of a savior. This ‘Hero of Deneva’ stuff... the parade and the adulation… it really buoyed me up while I was under the influence of the neural neutralizer, but then when I was alone, I would sink into such guilt over what I almost had to do to these people.”

Van Gelder looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “The Denevans are aware of your hard choices, Captain, I assure you, and the extraordinary measures you took to find a way to save them… even before you hinted at it in your speech at the luncheon reception. They know good ‘n’ well what their fates could have been at your hands. I think that’s part of the reason they idolize you so, _because_ of the lengths you went to to save them from that fate: risking your first officer, pushing past the grief over your brother, giving it every brain cell you had to find the answer.”

Jim remembered what Aurelan had said to him and sighed. “My sister-in-law’s dying words were, ‘Don’t let it go any further,’” he told Van Gelder.

“You see? Every colonist here would have agreed with her that stopping the creatures’ advance was paramount.”

Jim supposed that was true. Part of him still didn’t believe he deserved their adoration, but he recognized that was normal for him, not a lingering effect of the neural neutralizer.

“How do you feel _now_ , Captain?” the psychiatrist asked. 

Jim breathed a sigh and quirked a smile. “Well… I seem to be able to talk about it without going into a tailspin, so that’s nice.”

Van Gelder grinned. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

Jim nodded.

“It’s hard to believe that yesterday I almost stabbed myself in there.” Van Gelder gestured toward his study window. “Lord! Right in front of my wife.”

Jim didn’t know about that. “Oh! I… I didn’t realize,” he said. 

“I was convinced she’d be better off without me.” The doctor’s face went dark as he tried to make sense of his disturbed thought processes, but his rational mind couldn’t.

Jim remembered standing on the cliff edge, so certain that he was the worst possible thing for Spock.

“Spock saved you?” Kirk asked.

“Yes. Grabbed my wrist with one hand and gave me a neck pinch with the other, like he did on the Enterprise four years ago. Then, when I woke, he performed the mind meld, pulled me right up out of insanity… for the second time! Boy, do I owe him.”

“I’m sure he would simply say, ‘I am gratified to have been of service.’” Kirk smiled picturing his humble friend saying it.

Jim wanted Spock to wake up and come join them, enjoy this pretty setting he had chosen for Kirk to recuperate, but somehow he knew that Spock needed more sleep. Jim would content himself with Dr. Van Gelder’s agreeable company for a while longer.

“Your first officer is a jewel,” Van Gelder said in admiration. “How did _your_ mind meld go, Captain?”

“Cured all my ills,” Jim evaded.

“You bounce back quickly, Captain. I feel like I could use a few days to take it easy and get my bearings back, after those three days of torment.”

“Well, this is a peaceful place to do it. I see why you chose the Denevan mountains for your retirement.”

“Great climate, sensible government, low taxes… Deneva has it all,” Van Gelder enthused. “We often vacationed here, me and Lorna. Thankfully, we weren’t here that fateful year. The invasion left its mark, but things are mostly back on track again now. I like the Denevan way of life. Good old Marjorie laid a solid foundation for these folks. Five generations later, her colony has flourished and grown so large, but it still has that homey feel to it. Even when they try to do ostentatious things, like your welcome ceremony, Denevans give it an old-fashioned flair. Know what I mean?”

“Yes, I do.” Jim smiled. “A lot of the decorations along the parade route were done by children. My nephew, Peter, said they got a day off school to do it. His suburban community put on a lovely, small picnic for me. We went pedal-boating! Everything was picture perfect.”

“That sounds like one of Wallace Chadbourne’s lake communities.”

“Yes! Willow Breeze… and I got to meet him. Nice man,” Jim said.

“We looked at a couple of those homes. Great designs, but best for families. Lorna and I decided we liked these smaller cabins. This community's called Pinetop. We bought _two_ cabins here. One to live in and one as a vacation rental for some retirement income… pay for our trips to Wrigley’s Pleasure Planet!” Van Gelder winked. 

Jim wasn’t sure if the doctor was kidding or not.

“It isn’t easy to immigrate to Deneva, did you know? There’s a waitlist and you have to prove your utility… which isn’t easy for retirees. They don’t want any slackers here or anyone who can’t support themselves. So, Lorna and I used the loophole of buying a rental property and being landlords.”

“Ah, clever,” Jim said. “That sounds like a win-win. My father tried retiring once and it lasted three weeks. He couldn’t stand having nothing to keep him busy.”

“Haha, yeah, it’s working out well. We’ve had a really enjoyable five months getting both places fixed up the way we like them. We’ve only just finished. Met a lot of nice people in the process, too. We actually made the more attractive of our two cabins the rental. It has a great location nearer to Main Street, where the restaurants and shops of Pinetop are. We’ve already gotten a few bookings for the summertime.”

“Great,” Jim said.

“Hey!” The doctor sat up straight. “The rental doesn’t have anyone in it yet. That might be a way I could say ‘thank you’ to you and Mr. Spock! You could rest and recover there for a few days, take some hikes up to Hidalgo Peak. You can see the ocean and the city from up there!”

Jim smiled wistfully at the thought. Tucked in a comfortable hideaway with Spock, venturing out for romantic dinners and nature walks, restful days and passionate nights… it was so appealing.

“That sounds wonderful,” Kirk said. “I love hiking, but we’re off to Vega today for a conference.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Van Gelder remembered. “Where’s my head? Starfleet won’t give you any time off, after the hell you’ve just been through?”

“Well, I haven’t officially been through anything,” Jim explained. “Starfleet doesn’t like her captains to have mood disorders. I was able to fool everybody that I was fine, so we plan to just keep it under wraps.”

Van Gelder frowned.

“You disapprove?”

“No. No. I was just thinking about the families of those who succumbed to suicide. Knowing that even the great Captain Kirk barely survived this thing… well, that might have helped them come to terms with how overwhelming it was. People who haven’t experienced mental illness often don’t understand why their loved ones can’t just ‘shake it off,’ ‘be grateful,’ ‘let it go’... You know, all the things you and I were telling ourselves during this ordeal, but couldn’t quite pull off.”

“Hm,” Jim considered. “I hadn't thought of that.”

“You could really help those families understand. I mean a famous, articulate man like you. You could write down how the neural neutralizer affected you and let them read it. Could be cathartic and do _you_ a world of good, too,” Van Gelder said. He couldn’t help treating the captain like a patient. Habit.

Jim didn’t mind the idea. “If I were a private citizen, I might, but in my position….”

“I understand. You’ve got so many people wanting things from you. Oh, I had no business suggesting all that. You’ve given enough.”

“No, it was a good thought. I’ll run it by Dr. McCoy. Perhaps he’s already had to spill the beans to Starfleet about my ‘condition.’ Spock’s usually the one who’s intent on protecting my image. Bones is just as likely to say ‘heck with it.’”

Van Gelder laughed. “I like your Dr. McCoy and Dr. Noel. Tell me, did those amorous thoughts about her that Dr. Adams placed in your mind return at all?”

Jim was feeling very comfortable with Dr. Van Gelder and had to remind himself not to be too familiar. “Well, I didn’t notice an engagement ring on her hand last night, so I think all’s well,” he hedged with a sly smirk. 

“Well, if you _do_ decide to write up your experiences, you can leave that part out.” Van Gelder winked, guessing there was more to the story. “After Mr. Spock helped me back to sanity four years ago, I penned my account of what I went through, and our patients said it really helped them. Many of them had suffered with intractable mental illnesses most of their lives, and to realize that this was something that had been _imposed_ on them, and not just part of their dysfunctional neurologies... well, they said it helped them. Oh, it just kills me that some of them had to go through all of this agony again. Such dear souls most of them.”

They both fell quiet for a while, thinking their own thoughts. Then Van Gelder asked, “Captain, did you have nightmares where people from your past tormented you? Friends, folks who would normally _like_ you?”

“Yes,” Jim admitted. 

“I feel fine about that now, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget it,” the doctor said.

“I know what you mean,” Jim agreed, remembering the scathing words of his former lovers. “I’ve had a few lady friends…” he began.

“A few _dozen_ , I’m sure,” Van Gelder teased. 

Jim knew he meant it as a compliment, but he didn’t like that he had this reputation.

“I’ve always tried to leave them respectfully,” Jim defended, “acknowledge that they were important to me, and end things decently… but in my dream, they threw such resentment at me. I know it was just a dream, but I feel like I should contact them and apologize for being a cad.” Jim shrugged. He knew it sounded silly.

“No, I understand,” Van Gelder said. “Like I always tell patients, the key to dreams is realizing that every character in them is YOU, a creation of your own mind. Even if the people in your dreams exist in the real world, the things they say and do in your dreams is all you: your guilt, your hopes, your fears.”

“Mm, yes,” Jim said. He _did_ know this, but it was a good reminder. He got the feeling Dr. Van Gelder wanted to tell him what _he_ had dreamed about, and sure enough, after a moment or two, he began.

“I was working on the Martian Colonies 25 years ago. You probably know that a third of the Tarsus IV survivors were brought there. Were you, Captain?”

“No, I was brought to Earth,” Jim said.

“Well, all of the mental health professionals on Mars were called upon to help the traumatized survivors when they arrived, and I remember this little boy, four years old, skinny, but cute as a button. He took a liking to me and I looked out for him until his aunt from Boston came to claim him. Governor Kodos had killed both of his parents, and his aunt was so happy the boy had survived. She and her husband planned to raise him and give him a good life.”

Jim leaned in. This was sounding like Lt. Riley’s story.

“The little tyke called me the ‘duck doc,’ because I had a collection of painted duck decoys on my office window sill. I gave him his favorite one as a present before he left and he gave me a big hug and waved as his aunt took him away. I always pictured him living a good life and growing up happy, you know? But, in my nightmare, he was screaming at me that his aunt and uncle were cruel to him and it was my fault because I let them take him. That dream shook me up. I know it shouldn’t bother me _now_ , because it was an effect of the neural neutralizer, but it got me wondering about the kid. Kevin would be pushing 30 now. I wonder what became of him?”

“Hm, well, if his last name’s Riley, he joined Starfleet,” Jim said with a big grin.

“What?!”

“I have a Lieutenant Kevin Riley on the Enterprise, who was orphaned on Tarsus at four years old.”

“Oh, I bet that’s him! I don’t recall his last name.”

“I can ask him if he went to Mars Colony. I don’t know. Pretty sure he was raised by an aunt in New England, though.”

“Wow, what a small galaxy, huh? What’s he like?”

“Good officer. Loads of ambition and confidence. He’s got his eye on captaining his own ship someday. He’s well-liked, but gets teased ruthlessly for his singing voice.”

“His singing voice?”

Kirk chuckled. “Oh, it’s justified. Believe me.”

Jim’s expression made Dr. Van Gelder break out laughing.

Mrs. Van Gelder appeared with another cup of coffee and cinnamon roll. “I’m sorry it took so long, Captain. My friend, Joan, called to ask after Simon’s state of mind. She knew I’d been worried about him. It was so nice to tell her he’s in the pink again now. I only told her he’d had some ‘treatment,’ and I didn’t mention that you or Mr. Spock were here, Captain.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Van Gelder. I appreciate that.”

She laid the plate and mug in front of Kirk and went to give her husband a hug around the shoulders. He smiled up at her and patted her arm. 

“I’m glad to see you boys enjoying a nice chat. To think how horribly things might have turned out… This is like a gift.” She took a deep, cleansing breath of pine-scented air, shaking off the images of last night. A small red bird landed in the bird feeder hanging from the eaves at the corner of their porch. Jim noticed it.

“Oh, these little rascals give us such delight, darting to and fro, singing their warbly tunes,” she said. The small bird pecked at the food, then flitted away back into a tall tree. “They’re called borengas, similar to finches. Very entertaining.”

“You have a beautiful place here,” Jim told her again with a sigh. “I hope my own retirement is as lovely.”

“Oh, that’s years away, young man, but you certainly deserve it!” Lorna said.

“I offered them the rental, Honey, but sadly, they have to leave today,” the doctor said.

“Ah, that would have been nice,” she said. 

“Oh, Lorna, you’ll never guess… That little boy, Kevin, I told you about… He’s one of Captain Kirk’s officers!”

“No!” she said in surprise.

“Would you like to see him, Doctor?” Jim asked. “We can beam up to the Enterprise after breakfast… or better yet, why don’t I bring him down here? He’d probably enjoy some fresh air.”

The Van Gelders nodded.

“I have plenty of cinnamon rolls,” Lorna offered.

“It’s late at night on the ship right now, but Riley works a late shift. I’ll see if he’s busy.”

Jim whipped out his communicator. “Captain Kirk to Lieutenant Kevin Riley. Come in, Riley.”

“Riley here, Sir,” came the quick reply.

“Lieutenant, I’m planetside and I’d like you to join me. Are you busy?”

“No, Sir. Not particularly,” Riley answered.

“Good. Head to the transporter room. I’ll call in the coordinates.”

“Yes, Sir. Is there anything I need to bring?” Riley had in mind a tricorder or other gear, but all his captain wanted was a green v-neck uniform shirt from his cabin.

“Oh, and swing by Mr. Spock’s quarters and get _him_ a fresh uniform shirt as well.”

“Of course, Sir. I’ll be right down.”

“Kirk out.”

“I doubt if he’ll remember me,” Dr. Van Gelder said, “but it will be good to see him all grown up. Thank you, Captain.”

“My pleasure.”

“Do you think Mr. Spock will be waking soon, Captain?” Lorna asked.

Jim couldn’t explain how he knew Spock would be asleep for several more hours, but he knew. There was a warm buzzing sensation in his mind when he thought of Spock, like an afterglow of his friend’s presence. It felt comforting and close. It gave him a certainty about Spock’s state. 

“He’ll be sleeping until late-morning, I think, Mrs. Van Gelder. Two mind melds in one night… well, rescuing us both couldn’t have been easy on him.”

“Should we check to make sure he’s all right?” Dr. Van Gelder asked.

“Let’s not disturb him,” Jim said.

“What does he usually eat for lunch?” Lorna asked. “I can plan something he’ll like, before you have to leave.”

Jim had just finished naming off some of Spock’s favorite dishes when Riley appeared on the Van Gelders’ front walkway. Jim waved him over. He came up the stairs that led straight to the porch from the outside.

“Captain,” he greeted, his eyes still adjusting to the bright morning light. He handed Kirk the shirts, confused why the captain had called him down here on a yeoman’s errand. 

Mrs. Van Gelder sat him down and put a cinnamon roll in front of him. Riley smiled at the unexpected surprise.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said.

“Lieutenant Riley, may I present Dr. and Mrs. Simon Van Gelder,” Kirk said.

Riley recognized the name from the Tantalus mission, though he hadn’t met Van Gelder then, only read the report afterward. Hands were shaken and Kirk took a moment to decide how to handle this next part. 

Riley had reacted with vengeful fury a few years ago when he learned that the man who’d killed his parents was on the Enterprise, but Kodos was truly dead now, and after many sessions with Dr. Noel, Riley had come to terms with his pent-up grief and anger. In the years since, he and Kirk had shared many conversations about Tarsus, both deep and casual. It was good to have someone to talk to about it. Helen had said it would be. 

Jim decided to just say it straight out, confident that Riley could handle it.

“Lieutenant, 25 years ago, Dr. Van Gelder lived on Mars and treated some of the Tarsus survivors brought there. Were _you_ brought to Mars Colony?”

Riley’s eyes went wide, scrutinizing Van Gelder. “I was,” he said. 

“He remembers treating a 4-yr-old named Kevin…” Jim continued.

“You’re the duck doc!” Riley burst out.

“Haha Yes!” the doctor said, delighted to be remembered.

They clasped hands again across the table.

“Wow, that’s something!” Riley said, beaming. “I kept that blue duck you gave me until I went away to the Academy. I think my Aunt Kerry still has it.”

“See, Darling, the boy is fine,” Mrs. Van Gelder said sweetly.

“I had a dream your life didn't go so well. It upset me,” Van Gelder felt obliged to explain now.

“Oh?” the lieutenant said. “What happened to me?”

“You… um… you were angry with me for allowing your aunt to take you to Earth. You said your aunt and uncle mistreated you.”

“Aw, no. They were terrific. Aunt Kerry never had any other kids, so I got a lot of attention, and Uncle Declan was a great guy. He was a police sergeant and a fantastic Irish tenor. He taught me to sing.

Before they could suppress it, Van Gelder and Kirk exchanged a glance.

“What? ...Captain! Did you tell him I can’t sing?!” Riley accused.

“Uh...,” Jim said.

Kevin pouted and put his attention on finishing his cinnamon roll.

“I’m sure your voice is just lovely, Lieutenant,” Lorna said, patting his hand and shooting her husband and the captain disapproving looks.

Riley could act so put out when his pride was hurt and it made Kirk chuckle.

“Well, he’s a heck of a water polo player,” Jim offered.

Riley bucked up. “Thanks, Captain. You, too.”

“I was never any good at that,” Van Gelder said. “I’m a sinker.”

That made Kirk think of Spock again. He remembered slipping his arm around him in the pool and holding him up. He recalled how Spock felt in his arms last night. The ghost of Spock’s presence was still warming his mind. If this was the afterglow of mental sex with a Vulcan, he wanted more. 

Jim thought of all the scenarios Spock could create. They could go back to that Lyran beach and have sex there, or in the locker room showers on the ship, or in his dorm room at the Academy. _Oh! The possibilities!_ They were endless. Perhaps somewhere on Vulcan… some taboo place that would give Spock a thrill. Would Spock enjoy thrills like that? Something told him he would. Yes, he was certain of it. _How do I know that?_ Jim wondered. He supposed he had picked it up from the meld; he had such intimate knowledge of Spock now. They were lovers. The thought still astonished him.

“...well, I started in Engineering. I’ve done Nav and Communications…,” Riley was telling Van Gelder, who must have asked what he did on the Enterprise.

Spock’s shirt was lying in Jim’s lap and he idly stroked the blue velour with his thumb. _Oh, Spock, how I love you,_ he thought in earnest. He suddenly needed to see him. 

“I feel a little overdressed,” he announced, when there was a break in the conversation. “I’m going to go change.”

Riley stood up when his captain did. 

“As you were, Lieutenant,” Kirk said kindly. “Enjoy the company and this agreeable setting.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Riley was happy to do just that. It was good to breathe some non-recirculated air. He hadn’t gotten to go ashore on Lyra.

“I’ll probably check in with the ship, too, while I’m inside. Back in a bit,” Jim said. “Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Van Gelder.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure, Captain,” she said as she slid back the glass door for him.


	8. Chapter 8

Jim made a beeline for the guest room and slipped in. It seemed darker than before. Spock was still curled on his side, asleep. Jim wanted to lie down beside him, curve his body around Spock’s, but that wouldn’t do. _Let him sleep,_ Kirk told himself. He laid the blue uniform shirt next to Spock, and quietly left to change his own shirt in the bathroom.

_Ah, that feels better,_ Jim thought when he exchanged the tight collar of his dress shirt for his favorite v-neck. He knew Spock loved him in this shirt. He knew so much about Spock’s feelings now. He knew that on the bridge, behind Spock’s cool exterior, his friend had been adoring him, aching for him. Jim had never wanted anyone’s love like he wanted Spock’s. _Thank God, I have it,_ he thought with gratitude, staring at the lucky man in the mirror.

Just then his communicator chirped and he was glad he’d left the guest room so it didn’t disturb Spock.

“Dr. M’Benga to Captain Kirk.”

Jim slipped out to the vacant living room and took a seat on the sofa before answering.

“Kirk here. What can I do for you, Doctor?

“Captain, I wanted to give you a heads up that our Vega orders may be changing soon. The Federation Health Organization is about to issue a quarantine of the Vega system. Only supply ships will be allowed in and out.”

“Oh?” Kirk said.

“They’ve got a virus that they can’t knock out. It was just declared a pandemic. Not lethal to most, but not pleasant. They want to contain it.”

“I see.”

“Thought you’d appreciate knowing ahead of time that a change in orders will probably be coming,” M’Benga said. “Dr. McCoy’s asleep, but I’ll notify him when he wakes up.”

“Thank you, Doctor. 

“How are you feeling, Captain?” M’Benga asked. He’d been brought into the loop.

“Very well now, thanks. I hope the surviving Tantalus patients can say the same soon.”

“So do I. Terrible, just terrible,” M’Benga said with compassion. “Dr. Van Gelder is well also?”

“Right as rain. Mr. Spock and I are at his house. Probably be here most of the morning. Say, how’s Ensign Embry?”

“Recovering nicely. He’s on bedrest in his quarters and should be released for duty soon.”

“Glad to hear it. Was there anything else, Geoff?”

“No, that’s all.”

“Okay. Thanks for the early warning about Vega. Appreciate it. Kirk out.”

_Hm,_ Jim thought. He’d been looking forward to 12 days of nothing much happening. Leisurely days and intimate nights with Spock were something he felt he needed, some downtime to adjust to their new status. _A honeymoon_ _of sorts._ The notion made him smile.

Lt. Riley needed 60 more command hours to be eligible for promotion and Kirk was planning to provide him that opportunity on the journey to Vega. It would have served Riley well and freed up Jim… for other things. He sighed and wondered where Starfleet would be sending them next. Kirk had always been excited by space exploration, but it had been a long 5-year mission and some of the shine was off the apple. They hadn’t explored any uncharted territory in months and Jim got the feeling Command was “playing it safe” with them for public relations reasons, running out the clock on their mission, wanting to ensure they came home safely.

The things they had learned in the past five years were of incalculable value to the Federation. The accolades he and his officers had received here on Deneva would probably pale in comparison to what awaited them on Earth. Jim thought about the interviews he’d have to give to the press and the events he’d be expected to attend. He smiled as he pictured Spock by his side. Hopefully, Starfleet Command would recognize that he belonged there. 

_Spock would be an amazing captain, but that’s not what he wants. He wants to stay with me._ Jim fervently hoped Starfleet would let him. He considered all of the opportunities that would be open to them now. The universe was their oyster… but at the moment, the only thing sparking Jim’s imagination was Spock’s inner universe. What a magnificent place it was, an explorer’s dream! It felt almost like it was calling to him now. He closed his eyes.

_Jim._

His eyes snapped open. That was Spock! ...in his mind.

_Jim._

He sprang off the sofa and dashed to the guestroom to find Spock sitting up in the dim light. Kirk smiled to see him awake and rushed to his side, barely remembering to close the door behind him.

“Hey, good morning,” Jim said softly, holding him by the upper arms. He wanted to go in for a kiss, but something about Spock’s expression told him not to. “You okay?”

_I can hear you,_ Spock said without moving his lips. _You just related your whole morning to me._

“I did?”

_We are connected. You heard me call to you._

_Yes. I knew you were awake._ Jim was looking at Spock with wonder. _How are you doing this? Are we still melded?_

_No,_ Spock said.

_Then, how…?_

Spock was looking into his eyes. He knew everything Spock knew. 

_“_ We are bonded!” Jim exclaimed aloud. “Oh!”

Spock didn’t answer, but he didn’t deny it. Jim grabbed him up and pulled him to his chest in a tight embrace. He felt Spock’s concerns. This had happened accidentally and it would likely be permanent if they didn’t seek out a Vulcan priest to have it undone.

_No. No. I want this, Spock. I want you._

_It may affect your command, Jim, if you find yourself unable to block out my thoughts._

_You’ll just have to teach me to,_ Jim said.

Jim felt Spock’s uncertainty. Spock had never been bonded before. Not knowing all of the permutations and consequences unnerved him. Last night, he had wanted to claim Jim. Claim him totally and never let him go, but now… now he was afraid he had inadvertently caused something detrimental to his captain’s career.

_Spock, you’re a command-level officer, not some wet-behind-the-ears midshipman. You in my head can only enhance me. Please don’t worry._

Then, it occurred to Jim that Spock would likely have the more difficult time of the two of them, handling the constant presence of his human emotions.

_Jim, I can already tell that you will strengthen and broaden me in ways I could not have imagined. I did not intend this, but I, too, wish for the bond to remain._

Jim gave him another tight squeeze, then pulled back to see Spock’s face. He looked moved, shaken up, but happy. Jim took both of Spock’s hands and gently kissed them.

“I’m sorry I woke you. Do you need some more sleep?” Jim realized that even from down the hall, Spock had heard M’Benga’s call and woken up before he was fully rested. 

“I am unlikely to fall back asleep, but it might be an interesting experiment for me to remain here while you rejoin the Van Gelders and Lt. Riley outside. We can gauge the level of concentration you are able to give the people around you. We can repeat the experiment in reverse later, when I rise.”

“That’s a good idea. Are you going to lay low in here or _try_ to distract me?” Jim smiled. He almost _wanted_ the experiment to be challenging.

Spock appreciated that about his nature.

“We can try both,” Spock offered.

“Okay.”

There wasn’t really any need to say anything out loud, since both knew instantly what the other was thinking, but there was a certain comfort and normalcy in it.

The room was still quite dark and Jim had the thought how nice it would be to just push Spock back down onto the bed and stretch out beside him.

“We have a moment, Jim,” Spock offered, “before you will be missed.” He laid back on his pillow and invited Jim into his arms.

Kirk went gladly, snuggling into Spock’s side with a contented sigh.

“Are we going to tell people about this, Spock?” He was sensing mixed feelings. “Will it even be our choice? Or will we be too… different to be able to conceal it?”

“Unknown,” Spock said honestly.

“I was looking forward to those 12 days to Vega.”

“I was as well,” Spock revealed. “We could have used that time to adjust.”

“...and now, there’s even more to adjust to than we thought.”

“Indeed.”

“Who knows where Command will send us now?” Jim said. “I feel like Admiral Baronti has been playing it safe with us in the homestretch, but if he should call today with a dangerous mission…”

They lay silent for a few moments, exploring each other’s thoughts on the matter.

Finally, Spock said, “You may have no ethical alternative but to disclose our new status to the admiral.”

“Yes,” Jim agreed. 

Admiral Baronti was a reasonable man. Kirk and Spock both respected him. Still, telling him something that felt so personal was not first on Jim’s list of options.

Kirk took a deep breath and sat up. “Okay. Let the experiment begin….” he said with panache, remembering to savor this new bond and not be afraid of it. Spock had rescued him from a horrible fate and if this was the “price,” then it was an easy one to pay.

Spock bathed in Jim’s characteristic optimism. The Vulcan closed his eyes and prepared to impose as little as possible on Jim, at least for a few minutes. Kirk entered the hallway and spotted Riley and the Van Gelders laughing on the porch. They didn’t appear to be missing him.

“Oh, Captain,” Mrs. Van Gelder said as he slid open the glass door, “we were just offering to take Kevin for a hike, but he wasn’t sure if you would allow it.”

“Oh, certainly. I wouldn’t mind a hike myself! Let’s go,” Jim said.

“Wonderful,” Dr. Van Gelder said, clapping his hands together. “Mr. Spock is still sleeping?”

“He’s awake, but wants to rest a bit more,” the captain explained… partially.

“Compared to everything you two have seen, our little Hidalgo Peak isn’t much, I’m sure, but Simon and I enjoy the scenery and being out in nature,” Mrs. Van Gelder said as she ushered them down the steps and toward the trail.

“There are no dangerous animals in these woods, just some small mountain cats that are similar to bobcats,” the doctor said. “They are such little characters. Quite friendly.”

“Simon had one eating out of his hand once,” Lorna said. “I hope we see some today.”

Riley looked at Kirk and smiled. This was definitely sounding better than work. He looked up at the luminous turquoise sky one more time before the path led them into a dense thatch of trees.

Spock could see everything Jim was seeing, hear the conversation, feel what Jim felt. He was there. 

Kirk had always felt best when Spock was at his side. It felt just like that now. It seemed strange to Jim at first that the others weren’t acknowledging Spock’s presence. It felt so tangible, like he should be leaving him a space in the single-file line the party formed as the trail narrowed.

Spock was trying not to speak yet, so the captain would be able to concentrate on the people around him, but Jim was eager to use his newly acquired telepathy.

_Spock, can you hear me?_

_Yes._

Jim smiled to himself. It was like he had the world’s best secret.

_Is there a range on this?_ Jim asked. _Is there a point at which I will be too far away to hear you?_

_I do not believe so,_ Spock replied.

“...and these clusters of white flowers have the most delicious scent,” Mrs. Van Gelder was saying. She encouraged Riley to sniff a vine heavy with them.

“Wow, you gotta smell these, Captain!” Riley exclaimed. His face told Kirk they really must be something. “It’s almost like vanilla and… maybe marshmallow? I dunno.”

_Get ready for a treat, Spock,_ Jim said as he leaned over for a sniff. 

“Oh, very nice,” he said. He didn’t need to ask if Spock had smelled it. He already knew he had. He could feel Spock’s mind reacting, comparing it to other smells he’d experienced, then cataloging the fragrance in that impressive mental filing system he had.

“What is that plant called?” Kirk asked, because he knew Spock wanted to know.

“Brevertine,” Mrs. Van Gelder supplied. 

“It smells like a kind of Vulcan tea called _theris-masu potau-slor-tukh,_ ” the captain said with perfect pronunciation.

“Does it?” Mrs. Van Gelder said. 

_My God, Spock, I speak Vulcan! I know everything about your planet: history, philosophy, industry…. It’s like I lived a life there._

_You did, Jim. Mine._

“Write that down for me when we get back,” Lorna asked, “if you don’t mind. I’d like to see if our replicator can make some.”

“If that tea tastes half as good as it smells, it’ll be my new favorite!” Van Gelder said.

“Simon’s a tea snob,” his wife teased.

Riley laughed as they continued up the gentle slope. “My Uncle Declan was like that. We always had a huge variety of teas in the house. He said it was good for… the vocal cords.”

Kevin realized before he said it that he was setting himself up, but it was too late.

Kirk chuckled. 

“Just how bad ARE your pipes, boy?” Van Gelder asked. “I wanna hear.”

“Oh, Simon. Leave the poor man alone,” Mrs. Van Gelder said with a giggle.

“Let’s see…,” said Van Gelder, “what would be a good hiking song? Do you know ‘Clementine?’”

Lorna started them off: “In a canyon, in a cavern, excavating for a mine, dwelt a miner…”

“…’49er, and his daughter, Clementine,” Jim finished the line.

Lorna clapped with glee. “Oh, you sing very well, Captain. Now you, Lieutenant,” she prompted.

“I don’t know the words,” Riley lied.

“He prefers to sing about girls named Kathleen,” Kirk jabbed.

“No one is ever going to forget about that, are they?” Riley moaned.

“Not likely,” Jim chuckled.

The Van Gelders didn’t get the inside joke, but didn’t seem to mind. They blazed the trail ahead, continuing with the song: “...oh my darlin’, oh my darlin’, Clementine. You are lost and gone forever. Dreadful sorrow, Clementine.”

Jim could feel Spock in his mind, going through his brain’s collection of campfire songs. 

_Clementine drowns in a tragic accident,_ Spock said sadly, like he knew her personally.

Jim smiled. _She’s not real, Spock. It’s just a song._

Spock rifled through Jim’s boyhood favorites with interest. At camp, Jim and Sam had learned a lot of songs. Songs they hiked to, chopped wood to, paddled a canoe to…

_Yeah, I always liked to sing when I was a kid,_ Jim remembered. _Did you, Spock?_ Jim could help himself to any of Spock’s memories. He saw him chanting with his family during traditional Vulcan ceremonies, and learning to play the harp and piano, but no real singing. The only time Kirk had heard Spock sing was on Platonius when Parmen had forced him. He tried to cut off that thought before Spock heard it, but censoring himself was impossible now.

_It’s all right, Jim._

_Well, your voice was gorgeous. Even forced like that. We should sing together sometime when we’re alone. I would like that. You could play your harp like you do when Uhura sings._

_I shall start practicing ‘Clementine,’_ Spock said, knowing that would make Jim smile.

“What?” Riley said, when he spotted Kirk grinning.

“Oh, nothing. I’m just enjoying the day,” Jim replied.

“So am I, Captain,” Riley said honestly. “The Van Gelders are such a nice couple. Thanks for bringing me down here.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jim said. 

“Dr. Van Gelder is a friend of yours from the Tantalus mission and he invited you for a visit while we’re here?”

“Something like that,” Kirk dodged. He’d probably tell Riley the truth later, but now didn’t feel right.

“Captain! Lieutenant!” Van Gelder called from 20 feet up the trail. “Here’s one of those cats we were telling you about.”

Riley and Kirk quickly jogged the short distance to catch up.

“Oh, she’s got kittens!” Lorna said. “Look!”

Jim and Riley followed Lorna’s point to some tall grass at the side of the trail. Sure enough, there was a small brownish cat with the typical stripes-and-spots coat pattern of many species of Earth cat. Spock was like an encyclopedia of xenozoology and his mind quickly supplied the common name for this species: Harriman’s Wildcat.

The kittens were dancing about their mother, rolling in the grass and nipping at her tail. She didn’t seem terribly concerned about the humans. No doubt she saw plenty of them along this well-worn trail and wasn’t bothered by them.

“Come here, Harry,” Lorna called, making kissing noises. “Harry, Harry, Haaaaarry.”

“They’re called ‘Harriman’s Wildcats,” the doctor explained, “so we started calling them all ‘Harry’ for short.”

Lorna coaxed one of the babies close enough to scoop it up. She brought it to the captain and Riley.

“Oh, look at that,” Jim said fondly, giving the small head a pat, so Spock could feel what it felt like.

The mother came and gave his leg a brush with her sturdy body. Riley got in a quick pat, then Mrs. Van Gelder set the kitten back down on the path with its mother.

“They aren’t very afraid of us,” Riley said.

“We’re not very scary, I guess,” Kirk replied.

They watched the little family until they wandered back into the forest.

“They’re the apex predators around here, thank goodness,” Van Gelder said. 

“Not much further now to the top,” Lorna assured. 

They’d been hiking for about 25 minutes and the grade had never gotten strenuous. It was clear that Hidalgo Peak was no Pike’s Peak. _Perfect for retirees_ , Kirk thought.

_Indeed,_ Spock agreed.

The captain could feel that Spock liked Deneva. He did, too. Jim wished they could stay for a while. 

Spock had always been one to accept reality as it was instead of wishing for what might be, but now that he was experiencing the world through Jim’s dynamic mind, he saw the appeal of wishing.

_Wishing often leads to disappointment,_ Spock said.

_Ah, but not always,_ Jim responded. _Not always._

They opened onto a meadow that was bursting with multi-colored blooms. Spock felt Jim’s pleasure at the sight. The sky was visible again now and Jim’s eyes couldn’t decide between the heavens and the colorful carpet of flowers.

“Springtime is sure beautiful here,” Riley sighed. He’d been dating Yeoman Teresa Ross and Kirk imagined he was wishing she were here with him to enjoy this. 

_If only I could offer the crew shore leave here, Spock. Not everyone got to go ashore on Lyra 10._ _I don’t think Riley…_

_No. Neither Lt. Riley nor Yeoman Ross were in the shore leave rotations for Lyra 10._

The hikers neared the top of the mountain. There was a building with bathrooms and vending machines. It had a glassed-in space to sit and either cool off or warm up, depending on the season. On top, there was a large, open-air viewing deck. He followed the Van Gelders up the stairs and enjoyed an unobstructed 360 degree view.

He could see the ocean and Deneva City to the southwest, agricultural plains to the south, and rolling foothills dotted with lakes most other directions.

About 500 feet down the southwest side of the mountain, he spotted a hanging cable car. It was red and white and was creeping slowly down the slope. It must be more for leisure and scenic viewing than transportation, Jim decided.

_You have ridden in a cable car like that before in Juneau, Alaska,_ Spock noted.

_Yes. The Mt. Roberts Tramway. It was all windows…_

Spock could see the view Jim had enjoyed of the Gastineau Channel and the sensation of swinging under the cable like a pendulum. It had made Carol feel queasy. She told him the next week that she was pregnant.

_David. My son._

Kirk felt strangely guilty thinking about Carol and David with his new bondmate in his mind. 

_I have long known that you fathered a son, Jim,_ Spock said. _I love you, and I will honor David if ever he is in our lives._

This moved Jim. _Thank you, Spock._ He remembered the ta’al salute that Spock had offered Peter at the cemetery last night. Had that just been last night? So much had happened since then. He had a bondmate now.

Jim breathed in the air and remembered to attend to those around him. 

“Like the view, Captain Kirk?” Lorna was asking.

“It’s spectacular,” he said, looking back toward the distant ocean.

Lt. Riley agreed. 

Kirk thought he could spot the promontory point where Mr. Felsing planned to carve their faces. It was just a distant glimmer of white from here, so he wasn’t certain. Spock would know. He had the eyes of an eagle.

_I am using YOUR eyes, Jim. I cannot discern details at this distance any better than you can._

_Oh._ Jim hadn’t thought of that.

Spock had noticed that although the world was beautiful through Jim’s senses, it was also slightly muted. Not the colors… Vulcans and humans had roughly the same number of cones in their retinas... but the acuity of Jim’s vision and hearing was not the same as Spock’s.

_I’ll bet that cable car’s wheel is squeaking, Spock, and those people there on the trail below are talking. You could hear that with your own ears, couldn’t you?_

_Perhaps,_ Spock said. He tried to keep Jim from feeling his sudden protectiveness. He hadn’t realized how vulnerable Jim’s limited senses made him. There was no danger to him right now, but still Spock wished he were physically at Jim’s side.

_I’ve had these ears and these eyes all my life, Spock, and somehow I’ve managed,_ Jim said, amused by Spock’s needless concern. Then, he got curious about something.

_Hey, will I have superhuman senses when the experiment is reversed?_

_Negative. You will have VULCAN senses._

Jim rolled his eyes. _That’s what I meant, Spock. Wow, I’m looking forward to that._ He looked across the 80 miles to Deneva City and imagined being able to discern details of the roads and buildings.

Kirk, Riley, and the Van Gelders had been the only people up on the deck for nearly ten minutes, until a young dad and his two sons started climbing the stairs.

Looking at scenery was the last thing on their minds once they saw Kirk.

“Dad! That’s Captain Kirk!” the youngest one shouted. His older brother and father fell into a shocked stupor.

It amused Jim. “Hello,” he said casually. “Nice planet you have here.”

The three stood with their mouths hanging open for a few beats, scarcely believing they were meeting the Hero of Deneva.

Eventually, the dad stepped closer and extended his hand. “Captain Kirk, I am Doug Winslow and these are my boys, Kyle and Johnny.”

“Mr. Winslow, boys,” Jim greeted. “This is my officer, Lt. Riley, and our friends, Simon and Lorna.”

“Hello,” everyone said cordially.

“Thank you for saving us,” Johnny blurted.

“Oh, oh, you’re welcome,” Jim said. He squatted down to the child’s level. “How old are you, Johnny?”

“Seven,” the boy answered.

Jim pictured a preschooler infected by one of those horrible one-celled invaders. Then, quickly tried to push the image from his mind.

“How old is your brother?”

“Kyle’s 11. We watched the big parade at our house. All of our friends came over and we had popsicles,” Johnny said.

Jim smiled. “I was told a lot of schoolchildren helped decorate for the parade. That was very nice of them to do that for us.”

“Well, you saved everybody! You’re the Hero of Deneva,” Johnny said logically. 

The dad smiled proudly.

“Captain Kirk?”

“Yes, Johnny?”

“Kyle’s friend Mike says you were gonna have to irr… irrad... irradiate the whole planet and kill everybody, but then you found out how to kill only the monsters and not the people, because you’re a super genius!”

Johnny’s dad and brother looked appalled. By unspoken agreement, Denevan adults rarely mentioned Captain Kirk’s ‘alternatives.’ 

Jim just smiled and thought of his earlier conversation with Dr. Van Gelder. “Well, that’s right, Johnny... except my officers are the geniuses. They make me look good.”

“Mr. Spock is really cool, isn’t he?” Kyle said, finally finding his tongue.

“Yes, he is,” Jim replied, smiling at Spock’s reaction in his mind.

Just then his communicator chirped its familiar signal. “Bridge to Captain Kirk. Bridge to Captain Kirk.” It was the voice of the night shift communications officer.

“Kirk here, Lieutenant.”

“We’ve just received new orders from Admiral Baronti, Sir,” she said. “They are encrypted and marked Captain's Eyes Only.”

“I’ll view them in my quarters, Lieutenant. Prepare to beam me up.”

“Aye, Sir.”

“Kirk out.”

_Do you think it is wise to go up to the ship right now?_ Spock asked. _Our ‘experiment’ is not complete._

_Will you be able to hear me from orbit?_

_Unknown._

_Well, we’re gonna need to know that, so no time like the present, I suppose._

“Mr. Winslow, boys,” Kirk said, shaking their hands, “I have to go now. It was nice meeting you all.”

“Bye, Captain Kirk!” Johnny said. “Can I watch you beam up? I’ve only seen that a coupla times.”

“Sure,” Jim said, ruffling the child’s dark hair.

“Riley, stay with the Van Gelders. Enjoy yourselves. I’ll meet you back at their house a little later.”

“Aye, Sir,” Riley said.

“Lorna, Simon, thank you for a wonderful morning. This mountain air is really something. I feel 20 years old!”

“Oh, you’re welcome, Captain,” Mrs. Van Gelder said.

“Transporter room? One to beam up,” Jim said into his communicator.

“Halloway here, Captain. Standing by.”

“Energize.”

“Wow!” Johnny and Kyle exclaimed as the captain vanished in a shower of gold.

***

“Halloway,” Jim greeted, as he stepped off the platform.

“Captain,” the technician replied. He must have looked like he wanted to ask something, because the captain paused on his way to the door.

“What’s on your mind, crewman?”

“Oh… well, technician Salazar told me there were some emergency calls to the transporter room about 14 hours ago for intersite beaming on the planet, Sir. I was just wondering about that.”

“It’s a very interesting story, Halloway. I may tell you sometime.” Jim winked and headed out the door.

_You are a master of evasion,_ _Jim,_ Spock complimented.

_Ah! We CAN hear each other from orbit!_ Jim marveled. This was magnificent. They had strode down this hallway together hundreds of times, shoulder to shoulder, and it felt just like that now, but better. Jim felt strong and confident. Spock realized he didn’t intend to tell Admiral Baronti about their bond unless he absolutely had to.

_Why should I, Spock? There’s no precedent for this. Is there on Vulcan ships?_

_A Vulcan bonding with a human? No._

_You know what I meant… two officers bonding. On the Intrepid, before she was destroyed, were any of the Vulcan officers bonded to each other?_

_I do not know. There may have been bondmates serving together. It is not prohibited._

Jim could already see how advantageous it could be: instant, complete, perfect communication.

_Yes, it does provide that. Vulcans are accustomed to having bonds. Humans are not._

_You’re concerned that I’ll be distracted by you._

_You ARE distracted by me. If we were to face an emergency situation, you might miss critical details or the input of others, while listening to MY thoughts and reactions._

_In an emergency, YOUR thoughts would be the first ones I would seek, Spock... and I will have them at lightning speed now._

_Jim, I do not think you understand. I am lying completely still in the dark with my eyes closed, but if I were to open my eyes, the visual input would no doubt be distracting to you, as would the vestibular sensations if I were to move about… to what degree, I cannot predict._

_Well, let’s try. Wait just a minute, though. In case it packs more of a wallop than we expect. I want to be in my cabin first._

Kirk was approaching his quarters. He’d only seen two other crewmen on the way and had managed to greet them quite appropriately despite his ongoing conversation with Spock. 

The dim, magenta lighting of ship’s night felt comfortable and reassuring. He loved the Enterprise, her familiar rhythms and soothing vibrations. After nearly five years, he felt so in tune with her. The feeling of Spock in his mind was vaguely similar, but infinitely better.

Once, in an emotional moment years ago, Jim had lamented: “This vessel. I give, she takes. She won't permit me _my_ life. I've got to live _hers_.” The Enterprise, as much as he adored her, was a demanding mistress. Spock wanted to _give._ If there were one thing that came through their bond more than any other, it was that Spock wanted to give and give. Everything he had, everything he was, he wanted to give to Jim.

Kirk slipped into his cabin, remembering the last time he’d been here, how Spock had rubbed his back and played the harp music for him. He’d awoken from that horrible nightmare and reached for Spock like a lifeline. 

_Spock, if we had been bonded already when I first saw that news article about the neural neutralizer, what would have happened? Would you have recognized right away that I was being influenced and been able to set things right? Or would you have been hurt by it, too, because we are joined?_

_Unknown. If I were to speculate, I would say neither. My presence in your mind will likely provide protection against any other force attempting to alter it._

Jim smiled. He was glad to hear Spock talk about himself as a protective, stabilizing force, not a distraction. Spock was now in a better position to protect him than he ever had been, and Jim could tell how much this pleased his t’hy’la.

_When you are missing, I can find you. If you are hurt or under duress, I will know it._

_This was a very practical, logical decision we made, then, wasn’t it?_ Jim teased. He could feel Spock’s quirked eyebrow.

The captain laid down on his bed and closed his eyes. _Okay, Spock, open your eyes and move around some. Let’s see how it feels._

Spock opened his eyes and Jim immediately perceived the dim guestroom. The Vulcan sat up and, registering no distress from Jim, proceeded to the window and opened the Van Gelders’ curtains. Light flooded into the room and Spock saw the clean uniform shirt Kirk had laid on the bed for him. Jim saw it, too, through Spock’s eyes. Then, he saw Spock’s graph paper shirt land on the bed and the uniform shirt be snatched up. His bondmate was dressing. Spock returned the setting on his communicator to normal and attached it to his belt.

Then, Jim’s mind was filled with a vision of the outdoors. Spock was looking through the room’s window at the forest beyond. Kirk could discern details of bark and needles that he knew his own eyes would miss. _Wow._

Jim thought of something. _If your blindness had been permanent, Spock, we could have bonded. My eyes aren’t as good as yours, but you would have had vision again through me._

He sensed immediately that Spock would not have wanted to impose his disability on him, would not have even told him that bonding could free him from the darkness.

_Why not?_ Jim asked.

_You would have derived no benefit from it,_ Spock said.

_No benefit?! From being your bondmate?!_

_I still would have been considered blind and discharged from Starfleet,_ Spock pointed out. _Commanding a starship is your first, best destiny, Jim. I would not have wanted you to give up exploring the galaxy to retire to some pleasant planet as my caregiver._

_I’d do anything for you, Spock. Your incredible mind is a galaxy unto itself. I could spend a lifetime exploring it and derive plenty of benefit. I wouldn’t miss my old life._

Jim knew that Spock didn’t believe that, but appreciated his captain’s earnest expressions of devotion.

_Spock, you were going to sacrifice YOUR career to save Captain Pike from his horrible disability,_ Kirk said. _What benefit would you have derived from that?_

_Point taken,_ Spock said. He could feel Jim exploring his feelings for Pike. Spock didn’t try to hide them. He couldn’t and he didn’t want to. Jim could see.

_I was so impressed by your loyalty to him, Spock, but so angry at you for not trusting me to help you take him to Talos._

_I wanted to, Jim. I had only known you four months, but I knew you would help me if I asked. I could not ask, could not put you at risk for the death penalty._

_I know, Spock._ A thought occurred to Jim. _Why risk taking him to Talos? Why not just bond with him? The Talosians’ illusions have nothing on YOURS._ Jim’s pants suddenly seemed a bit tight thinking about just how real Spock’s mental illusions were.

_At that time, I was betrothed to T’Pring and not at liberty to bond._

_Would you have, if the choice were yours, and Talos hadn’t been an option?_

Still looking out the window at the woods, Spock considered Jim’s hypothetical.

_I… I perhaps would have extended the offer,_ he admitted, _though I doubt Captain Pike would have accepted._

Jim gazed through Spock’s sharp eyes, and with the Vulcan’s acute hearing, he could perceive the noises of the forest clearly through the closed window. 

_You served with Pike for 11 years. It was a very brave thing you did for him, Spock. I hope he and Vina are happy,_ Jim said.

_As do I._

_I bet he misses you. He probably fantasizes that he and Vina are on the Enterprise, exploring the galaxy with you at his side, and it probably feels real as heck, but he knows… knows you’re not really there._

Kirk felt an inappropriate stab of selfish joy that _he_ had Spock and not Pike, that the Vulcan’s loyalty and protectiveness were turned exclusively toward _him_ now.

Spock just smiled. He was pleased Jim felt this way. It was incredible to be needed and wanted the way Jim wanted him. With Jim sharing his mind and his senses, he felt complete for the first time in his life. He never would have guessed how pleasant an experience it would be to have his t’hy’la looking through his eyes, hearing through his ears.

_...for me, too, Spock._ Jim wondered what it would be like when one of them ate something. Taste… how would _that_ be perceived? 

Spock was curious about touch. He stroked the velour of his sleeve softly to see how Kirk would perceive it.

_Mmm, wow,_ Jim said. 

Spock had a lot of nerve receptors in his hands. The input painted a more detailed picture of what velour felt like than Kirk had ever experienced. 

_I knew when you pet the Harriman’s cat that there were differences in the way our minds process tactile stimulation,_ Spock said.

_I didn’t realize we had differences in that way. Are ALL of your senses sharper than mine?_

Spock hesitated, wondering if Jim would think he was bragging…

Kirk chuckled. He’d seen firsthand how formidable Spock was telepathically. It didn’t surprise him to find that Spock was superior to him in the other five senses as well.

_We know the Van Gelders and Lt. Riley won’t be back for a while,_ Jim said. _Take a stroll out to the living room. I’m doing fine with this, so far,_ he reassured. It was extraordinary experiencing the world the way Spock did. Jim wanted more.

Spock obediently walked out to the main room, then through the kitchen and the study. Kirk had kept his eyes shut since Spock had first opened _his,_ but now, he wanted to try opening them. 

_Go ahead,_ Spock agreed.

Tentatively, Jim opened his eyes, knowing that Spock predicted possible disorientation from _two_ visual fields. He braced himself like he used to before a thrill ride at the Washington County Fair… but he felt fine. He got up and walked around his quarters, glancing from object to object as Spock did the same in the Van Gelders’ house. Neither of them had difficulty sorting the abundance of visual input. 

Jim could hear Spock pondering whether conversations with others would prove more challenging. He was also wondering if the bond could be closed off at will. When Spock walked into the bathroom, Kirk quickly realized why he was wondering this.

_Okay, how do I give you privacy?_ Jim asked awkwardly.

_I am not certain,_ Spock admitted. _I have never been bonded before. I have heard privacy between bondmates described as ikap-svep._

_Closed door,_ Jim supplied, using his new language skills. _Okay, let’s try that. Who imagines the door closing, you or me?_

_You try closing it,_ Spock said. _Then, if you succeed, I will try opening it in a few minutes._

_Any particular kind of door I’m supposed to imagine?_ Jim asked. Then, they both laughed to realize they were each picturing hinged _bathroom_ doors like the Van Gelders’.

_All right, here goes,_ Kirk said. He swung his mental door closed and all images/thoughts/feelings from Spock ceased. It was an unpleasant feeling, but Jim concentrated on keeping the door closed until Spock opened it.

Jim was alone with his own thoughts and sat down at his computer to load the orders from Admiral Baronti. He wanted to listen to them with Spock, so he waited. 

In a couple of minutes, the mental door swung open again and Jim could see Spock, looking at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror and washing his hands.

_Wow! We are so good at this already,_ Jim declared, impressed with himself. _You didn’t think I’d take to this so quickly, since I’m not a telepath, did you?_

_I did not,_ Spock admitted, _but your ability to adapt quickly to unique situations is…_

_Legendary?_ Kirk supplied.

Jim could feel his amusement and relief at his captain’s adaptability.

_We were made for this, Spock. At least that’s how it feels to me._

It felt like that to Spock, too. He felt complete, more at peace than he ever imagined he could feel.

By mutual agreement, Jim reached out and flipped the switch to play Baronti’s orders. After a second, the admiral's craggy face filled the screen.

“Captain Kirk, I trust this finds you well,” the admiral began.

For a moment, Kirk thought the old man might know of his recent affliction, but then he remembered that was Baronti’s typical greeting. 

“I’m changing your previous orders,” the admiral began without preamble. “You won’t be going to Vega. The conference there has been postponed indefinitely due to a viral pandemic. The disease is rarely fatal, but the Federation wants to keep it contained, so the planet has just been quarantined, no ships in or out.”

“Now,” Baronti seemed to take a deep breath. “we were going to tell you this after the mission to Vega, because plans for the Enterprise were still being firmed up, but now it’s been decided. You are to remain at Deneva for 10 days, then report to Earth. We’re bringing the Enterprise in early for a refit: a complete six-month overhaul in spacedock.

Jim and Spock felt each other’s surprise.

“The Enterprise is scheduled for Bay “A” and it’s currently occupied, so we’re having you hold at Deneva,” Baronti explained. “The bad news is that your five-year mission is ending three months early,” the admiral continued. Then he got a twinkle in his eye and said, “The good news is that your NEXT five-year mission can start three months early!” He smiled. “How’s that for news?”

“And yes, you’ll have that stubborn first officer of yours. Maybe we’ll coax him into his own command in five more years. Until then, we’re keeping a winning command team together. Mr. Spock is all yours, as are all current crew members who elect to sign on for another five years of deep space exploration.”

Kirk’s heart was pounding. He paused the message so he and Spock could digest the news. It was exactly what they wanted.

_If Starfleet Command thought we were a good team before, just wait, huh?_ Jim said.

_Do you intend to tell them we have bonded?_ Spock asked. They both had mixed feelings about it.

_I feel differently about it from minute to minute,_ Jim admitted. _I think maybe it needs to settle for a while, before we decide anything._

Spock agreed. Although he didn’t think it likely, it _was_ conceivable that the admiralty would consider Jim compromised by the bond, no longer himself.

_I’m more myself now than I have ever been,_ Jim reflected. It was true, but he could imagine having trouble explaining that to Admiral Baronti.

_People fear things they do not understand,_ Spock said. _Even admirals. If there is even a slight possibility they could take the Enterprise away from you..._

_Hmm,_ Jim considered. He could hear Spock leaning toward keeping it secret. _What about ethics? Lies of omission and all that?_ Jim asked.

_Perhaps personal matters are best kept personal,_ Spock suggested in true Vulcan fashion.

Spock could feel Jim reflecting on their urgent flight to Vulcan when his blood burned. 

_You neglected to tell anyone at Starfleet that a five year mission to deep space might kill you, if you went into pon farr and couldn’t get to Vulcan._

_That is different,_ Spock defended indignantly.

_Is it?_

_Starfleet respects the Vulcan tradition of keeping mating practices secret._

_Yes, but I’m not sure their cultural sensitivity extends to me._

_You are my mate._

A flush of warmth traveled through Jim just hearing Spock think those words. Spock felt it.

Jim smiled. _Let’s hear the rest of the message. We can discuss this later._ He flipped the toggle and the admiral began speaking again.

“Most of your officers have requested to remain, but Lt. Kevin Riley put in for first officer of the colony ship _Vista_. He’s qualified for it, except he falls short of a few command hours. If you’re able to offer him 60 hours while you’re in orbit around Deneva, we can promote him to Lt. Commander and offer him the slot on the _Vista.”_

Spock felt Jim’s delight. Riley wanted a captaincy someday and this was a good path. Those colony ships held thousands of people and animals, tons of equipment. It was a big responsibility, but very rewarding. Spock knew Jim and Riley had talked about it often. He was gratified that things were falling into place for the ambitious lieutenant.

“Feel free to set up shore leave rotations on Deneva for your crew, Kirk,” the admiral continued. “We want everyone coming home rested, yourself included. You’ve earned it. I’m afraid that Command has some grandiose ideas for your welcome home celebrations, especially after seeing that parade the Denevans put on for you. I’ll contact you in a week with details. Take care. Baronti out.” 

Jim flagged the orders as having been read, then switched off his computer. His mind was spinning. Five more years of exploration with Spock by his side! This news could not be better. He wanted to physically hug Spock.

_Spock, we’re taking that honeymoon! I’m going to accept the Van Gelders’ offer of their rental cabin. Riley can mind the store._

Spock saw how his t’hy’la visualized the week ahead. He could still visit his nephew a couple more times and perhaps indulge Governor Coffman with that farm tour he’d offered, but mostly, he craved privacy with Spock. He pictured hikes, cable car rides, intimate dinners, and nights in each other’s arms. 

Kirk knew he had Spock’s approval. Spock ached to share with Jim everything that was in his mind and heart. There was so much ground to cover, so much pleasure and comfort they could give each other.

Jim lay down on his bunk and closed his eyes. He wanted to savor the feeling of Spock’s joy for a moment, then he would notify the bridge of their new orders, pack some things from their quarters, and head back to the Van Gelders’. He was excited to give the news to Lt. Riley personally, but he hoped to have a few moments alone with Spock before their hosts returned from the hike.

_Oh, Spock, our own mountain cabin! I hope it has a fireplace._

Spock saw that Jim was picturing the room where they’d made love in that four poster bed. Kirk knew it didn’t really matter what the rental cabin was like; Spock could create any mental venue for them. 

_We’re going to have 50 years together maybe, if we’re lucky, Spock,_ Jim said with wonder. 

He was free of the neural neutralizer’s effects, thanks to Spock, and stronger than ever with the new bond. _Did you ever think it could be like this between us?_

_I did not,_ Spock admitted. _For years I have been telling myself that WANTING is more pleasing a thing than HAVING_. _It seems I was in error_.

Jim chuckled. He knew that nothing in the galaxy compared to having Spock for his own. _Well, you have me now. I hope I can make you happy._

Spock saw an old marriage tradition in his t’hy’la’s mind, something symbolic that Jim wanted…

Instantly, Spock created an image of what their Pinetop cabin might look like and put them on the front step by an open front door. In one fluid motion, he swept Jim off his feet and carried him, wedding night style, over the threshold.

The End


End file.
